A Bicycle in the Family Tree
by GoddessEris
Summary: After the arrest of his father, Draco discovers that his family tree is missing a limb. Yet another long lost sibling story. BtVSHP
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: This is me. This is me on the bandwagon. I've got to admit, I'm writing this for one reason and one reason only. And if I get to the scene that I'm dying to write, then you'll know the reason, too. 

The timeline for HP is after book five, for Buffy after season two. Things might get jiggled around some, but hey, that's what fanfiction is all about.

A Bicycle in the Family Tree 

Prologue

Draco Malfoy sat at the head of the table reading the Daily Prophet. Actually, he was only pretending to read it, instead bypassing the text for the far more interesting picture of his father being led away by aurors. He watched Lucius struggle, manage to free one arm, and quickly be subdued by means that looked decidedly muggle. And painful. Lucius certainly seemed convinced. The picture looped and began anew. Struggle, escape, capture. Defeat.

Draco made an attempt to delve deep into his emotions, the ones he usually kept under tight control. He found himself to be out of practice. What was he feeling? The picture looped. Struggle, escape, capture, defeat. Again. Struggle, escape, capture, defeat. Struggle, escape, capture-.

"We're free."

Startled, Draco looked away from the paper and across the impossibly long table at his mother. She sat, tall and proud in her usual seat, watching the son sit in his father's place.

"Free to what? Become social lepers? The laughing stock of the wizarding world?"

Draco knew he sounded bitter. He felt bitter. An emotion, at least, and one he was familiar with. Narcissa continued as if he had said nothing.

"Finally, we are free. Free to live our own lives, separate from the plans of your father and He-Who. . . and-Voldemort."

Draco winced at the name, then scowled at his own cowardice. 

"Don't give me that face, Draco," said Narcissa. "I know you better than you think. I know you never had any intention to. . . to join forces with him."

"You don't know anything," he said. _Struggle_, he thought. Narcissa waited him out with a perfectly arched brow. "Well, no, I wasn't going to join father and You-Know-Who, exactly. But it wasn't for any noble reason. No pursuit of truth, beauty, and all that. It was going to be a thing. A statement. Show that bloody Potter that anyone can defy the dark lord."

"You were going to risk certain death to show up Harry Potter?"

"Yes! It was going to be a grand gesture. Think of it, just imagine. . . Draco Malfoy is redeemed. Turns to good. Fights He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named. Marries a mud-bl-a muggleborn. And then nobody would even remember the Prat-Who-Lived."

"Oh? And what muggleborn would you be marrying?"

A hint of red appeared high on his cheeks. _Escape_.

"No one. You're missing the point. Because of father's arrest, now the gesture is crap. The purity's gone out of it. Now it's just scared little Draco switching side to save his own arse. Probably Saint Potter would welcome me with open arms, rise above past hurts and all that rot. Bloody-"

"It's no good, Draco. I know you."

Narcissa stood and made her way towards him. "I know how you've struggled to balance out what your father told you and what you know to be right. I know how you feel, like half of a whole."

Draco shot up. "I do not," he yelled, the red coming back with a vengeance. "I'm twice the man Potter is! I'm worth ten times what he is!"

"Stop," said Narcissa, placing a hand on Draco's cheek and turning his head to face hers. Gray eyes met green, and Draco stilled. "You feel like a part of you is missing. This is not a fault in you. This is Lucius' doing."

"What do you mean?"

"The night you came into the world, there was not one child born, but two."

Draco laughed uneasily and pulled away from Narcissa. "A twin? Please, mother, spare me the long-lost relative tale."

"It's the truth."

"Well, where is he then? Eating fish heads in the attic?"

"Not he. She. A little girl."

Narcissa paused, a faraway look in her eyes.

"A girl. Right. So where is this bundle of joy?"

"Your father didn't want a girl, he wanted to kill her. Because she came first, by minutes."

Draco's confusion must have shown, because Narcissa clarified.

"Lucius couldn't bear the idea of his eldest being a girl. He wanted a boy to be the heir."

Draco shook his head.

"This is. . . a lot to take in. And you still haven't told me where she is. If Lucius wanted to kill her-"

"I wouldn't let him. I couldn't. I had her smuggled out by a house elf. I haven't seen either of them since."

"Fantastic. They're both probably dead."

"She's not dead," said Narcissa, hand over her heart. "She's not."

"Fine."

Draco realized that at some point during the conversation he had begun clenching his fists. Trying to relax, he sat back down and placed his hands palm down on the table. The Daily Prophet lay between them, the picture of Lucius hidden from view.

"If you don't know where she is, how will you find her?"

Narcissa smiled and picked up Draco's hand. She kissed his palm.

"Magic," she said, bringing his palm to her cheek. _Capture_, thought Draco.

His thoughts looped. Struggle, escape, capture. . . 

A sister.

__

Struggle.

A victim of his father.

__

Escape.

A half of his whole.

__

Capture.

"My beautiful baby girl," said Narcissa, staring at Draco while clearly seeing something else.

__

Defeat? _Freedom_?

Draco felt a distinct emotion. Another he was quite familiar with. 

__

Jealousy.

AN again: Well, it's not exactly what I had in mind. Lots of dialogue and the inevitable set up. Hopefully things will get funnier, too. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to progress step-by-step or jump straight into some Hogwart's action. Suggestions are welcome. Also having major spacing issues. Help incredibly welcome.

~Eris~


	2. Part 1

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Is it Buffy? Yes, it is! Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 1

Buffy Summers, currently going by Anne for those who cared to know her name, was having a bad day. Of course, every day had been bad since the real kicker of a bad day, the day she plunged a sword into her boyfriend, sending him to hell. Looking back, one could even say this streak of supremely unstellar days had actually begun with the loss of said boyfriend's soul. But Buffy wasn't big on looking back. Or looking forward. She pretty much focused on the day to day stuff. And today was not going well.

She had arrived to work late, and had already received a lecture and threats of pay-docking and job loss from her boss. She had spilled coffee, soup, and some sort of stew down her already battle-stained uniform. And Marla had just informed her that there was a table of customers insisting on being served by her, and only her.

As she approached the table, the two people seated turned to watch. The boy was looking at Buffy in unveiled disgust. The woman, who judging by the similar delicate bone structure was the boy's mother, was looking at her in apparent adoration. Although incredibly rude, the disgust was at least understandable. Buffy knew that she looked like crap. The adoration on the other hand…

Buffy quickly glanced behind her, checking to make sure she wasn't coming between a loving husband-wife moment. The only other person in the woman's line of sight was an overweight and underdressed woman who was currently chowing down on a piece of pie.

Shrugging mentally, Buffy turned her attention back to the odd couple, and pulled out her notebook and pen.

"What can I get you guys to drink?"

"A bottle of tequila and two shot glasses," said the boy in a familiar accent.

__

Great, thought Buffy,_ British comedy._ She had never really gotten into the shows that Giles had, from time to time, forced her to watch on PBS. He had tried to tell her it was dry humor. She had replied that "dry" was British for dull. He had sighed and cleaned his glasses…

" We don't serve alcohol here," she said, ruthlessly pushing away the memory. "But there's a bar down the street that I'm sure would be more than happy to meet your demands."

"Oh, no," said the woman, "we're not here to drink. Draco was just trying to be funny. You see we're actually here to see—"

"To see if there's anything on this menu that hasn't been pulled out of the rubbish heap of a better restaurant," interrupted Draco.

"Excuse me?" Buffy glared at him. "Is this more of you trying to be funny?"

Draco smirked. "No, but really. Is it possible to get a decent meal here?"

Buffy crossed her arms. "No. It's not. You see, all us waitresses spit in the food. And you don't want to know what the waiters do. So why don't you go get your food from somewhere else."

"Is there a problem here, Anne?"

Buffy winced and turned to face her boss.

"No, sir. I was just—"

"Just telling our customers that the food was. . . tainted? And that they should eat elsewhere? I told you when you came in late today that you were on probation. Now I'm a patient man, but consider yourself out of a job."

"Excuse me, sir," Draco broke in, "but it's really not her fault. I was antagonizing her on purpose."

"And why would you do that?"

"Well, because. . . because she's my sister. It's a— a family thing. Tormenting your siblings, and so on."

"Fine," said the boss. He glared at Buffy. "Last chance, Anne. Don't screw it up."

After the boss was out of earshot, Buffy smiled at Draco. "Thanks. I'm really surprised he fell for it, and I wouldn't have been in this situation if not for you, but thank you."

"Is it so unbelievable that you two could be brother and sister?" the woman asked.

"Mother," said Draco warningly.

Buffy sighed, once again remembering that this was a table of crazy people.

"So who wants to order?" she asked brightly.

"We didn't come here to eat," said the woman. "We came to talk to you."

"Damn it," muttered Draco, slumping into the chair.

Buffy looked from one to the other in confusion.

"You see, Anne," continued the woman, "Draco is indeed your brother. And I am your mother. We've come to take you home!"

"Ha, ha," said Buffy. "You two sure do like your little jokes. Now are you going to order or not?"

"It's not a joke, darling. You're my baby, my precious little girl that I was forced to give up."

Buffy shook her head. 

"Look, I already have a mother. And I don't have a brother. No get some food or get out!"

The woman smiled, unfazed. "Your mother lets you work in a place like this?"

"Well, no. I'm not really living at home right now. Me and my mother. . . you know what? This is none of your business."

"You've left home? Wonderful," exclaimed the woman. Draco snorted.

"Really, mother. Could you have gone about this any more awkwardly?" He stood up and dropped some money on the table. "What time do you get off work?" he asked Buffy.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'll just tell the crazy people when they can come kill me. Why don't I just give you my address?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "We're not crazy, we're not here to kill you. Come on, mother." He helped the woman out of her chair and began to escort her to the door. She pulled out of his grasp.

"Please, Anne. You have to believe me. Give me a chance. A chance to explain…"

Buffy stared into the woman's eyes. She felt like she was caught up in something beyond her control. Green eyes, filling with tears. Buffy had always wondered how she had ended up with green eyes when her mother's were blue and her father's were brown. _Recessive genes_, said a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Willow. Maybe. Maybe not.

"7:30," said Buffy. "At the park down the street."

She didn't watch them leave. She would be seeing them soon enough. Unfortunately, she also didn't watch where she was going, and a full-on collision with Marla added country gravy to her stains. 

AN again: I had originally planned on having all the explanations out and done with in this chapter, but it ended here instead. Don't you love fics with minds of their own? So watch out for that next chapter. Hopefully it won't be as boring as I'm anticipating it to be.

~Eris~


	3. Part 2

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: I honestly can't believe that I'm still writing this thing. Normally I lose interest after the first paragraph. Well, here's to hoping my muse doesn't abandon me. Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. Three time offenders get a shout out!

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 2: Light the Light on the Front Porch

Buffy arrived at the park at 7:15. Although her shift was supposed to end at 7:00, the boss had kept her an extra ten minutes, in part to make up for her lateness but mostly, in Buffy's opinion, because he was an asshole and he could. That had left her with very little time to get cleaned up and over to the park before the freak show began. She had definitely wanted to get there first in order to get a lay of the land, and to settle her nerves before the confrontation. Unfortunately, the odd couple must have had the same thought. That, or they had been waiting for her to get there, because less than a minute after her arrival Draco and his mother came up to the bench she was standing next to. 

There was a long awkward moment in which the woman beamed at Buffy and made a move as if to hug her. Buffy immediately put the bench between them, while Draco looked bored with the entire situation. 

"So," began Buffy nervously. "Here I am. And I'm not really sure why."

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "stupid cow." Strangely enough, his obvious dislike of her made Buffy feel more relaxed. Random people (or vampires) tossing insults her way was something she could deal with. Random hugs were something else entirely.

Buffy gave Draco the smile she usually reserved for demons right before she offed them.

"We're not at the diner anymore," she said.

"So?"

"So, nobody's going to stop me from kicking your ass."

Draco smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

"And I'd like to see you with this bench shoved up your—"

"Children!" exclaimed the woman with amusement. "Can't you save the petty squabbling for later?"

Buffy turned to the woman, astonished that she had forgotten about her for the moment. There was just something about Draco that irritated her to no end. Possibly his attitude, his stupid smirk, his nearly getting her fired, his calling her names, the way he was standing, his. . . 

"Sorry," said Buffy. "So this thing about me being your daughter. What's that all about? No, scratch that. First of all, who are you, anyway?"

"Oh. How silly of me not to introduce myself. Everything is just so. . . " She waved her hands about. "I'm Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco."

"Right. Okay. And you think that I'm your long-lost daughter. But. . . look, you guys seem like very nice people. Well, you," she indicated Narcissa, "seem nice. Jury's still out on Queen D, there."

Draco glared at Buffy, but she continued before he had a chance to retort.

"But like I said in the diner. I have a mother. I'm not adopted or anything."

"That you know of," interjected Narcissa gently.

"Yeah, fine. That I know of. Obviously I can't just provide you with some proof of my origins because, darn the luck, I left my birth certificate in my other uniform. But I'm not the one with something to prove. You're the one making this big claim. Why do you think I'm your missing link?"

Narcissa looked nervously at her son, who simply stared back in a very unhelpful manner.

"Well, the thing is," she began nervously, "Anne, darling. . . do you believe in magic?"

There was another awkward pause. Buffy noticed that while Draco was trying to remain aloof, he was watching her closely, clearly interested in her reaction. She fought back the highly inappropriate urge to belt out the rest of the McDonald's commercial.

"Yes," replied Buffy in a level tone.

"Well," Narcissa hand's fluttered about a bit more. "Good." She seemed somewhat taken aback by Buffy's nonchalance. 

"So you did a spell," prompted Buffy before another silence could form.

"Yes! A little blood magic. It's the strongest, you know. And twin blood. . . it was really quite simple."

Draco sighed loudly. "Yes, quite simple isn't it? You're not the one who risked all to provide the key element of the spell."

"Draco, one cut finger hardly constitutes a threat to your life," said Narcissa.

"It does when it's being done by the Deadly Dagger of Death, Dying and Doom."

"It's the simply called the Dagger of Death, as you well know, and you were never in any danger," replied Narcissa with exasperation.

"Right. The Dagger of Death. . . still doesn't exactly inspire confidence, does it?" asked Draco.

"Alright, enough theatrics, Queenie," said Buffy. "We all see that you're alive and well. Now about that spell. Yes, I do believe in magic, but I'm going to need more proof than word of mouth."

"I'll show you 'Queenie,'" hissed Draco, reaching for something in his back pocket.

"Draco!" said Narcissa sharply. "The necklace."

"Yes, mother," spat Draco, changing trajectory and pulling a necklace out from under his shirt. He snapped the chain and tossed the whole thing to Narcissa. She, in turn, held it out for Buffy to see. 

Buffy gazed at the pendant as it swung on the chain. It was a small, clear vial, filled with a red fluid. It looked very fresh. _Blood_, thought Buffy. _It's always the blood_. The most amazing thing was that the vial was emitting a faint glow. As Buffy reached across the bench towards the necklace, the glow increased. As she closed her palm around the vial, Narcissa let go of the chain. And something shifted. When Buffy opened her palm again, the glow was gone, and the blood inside looked several days old.

"This doesn't prove anything," said Buffy, not taking her eyes away from the vial. "Except that you guys are taking one too many pointers from Angelina and Billy-Bob."

"You're not convinced?" asked Narcissa, visibly wilting.

"No. I've seen glowy things before," she replied. She was lying. Not about the glowy things, but about being convinced. She wasn't sure exactly what she felt, but there was a pull inside her. A whisper of something. Buffy knew that if she looked up, everything would change. Even as a part of her realized that she couldn't stand here staring at the necklace forever, another part embraced the idea of change. She couldn't stay as a runaway in LA forever. She didn't want to go back to Sunnydale. Her options were limited.

Buffy looked up and found herself caught in Draco's eyes. The shift and pull inside her was pulled taut. Snapped. Then reconnected. Click. Boom. She could tell by the way that Draco stiffened that he had felt something as well. For a moment they simply stared at each other. Then she felt him. In her head, in her heart, in her soul. The sensation was terrifying, binding. Claustrophobic. They could not both fit.

Her hand clenched convulsively around the vial, the combination of fear and slayer-strength shattering it. Pieces of glass slid into her palm, and she winced. With the introduction of this new, physical pain the suffocating feeling lessened, then ceased.

Buffy unclenched her hand and looked at the mess of blood and glass.

"Oh, ick," she said. She glared at Draco. "You'd better be disease-free."

Draco scowled at her as he made his way over.

"My blood's purer than yours," he said, holding her hand gently by the wrist. He began to carefully ease the glass out of her palm, while Buffy watched him in confusion. The weirdness of having her supposed brother, who seemed to hate her, tending her wound was conflicting with a feeling of absolute naturalness. Buffy pulled her hand out of his.

"Well, according to you guys, we have the same blood."

Draco took a step back, and their eyes met again. _Click_. The connection was lessened, but still present. _Boom_. An echo of a memory.

Draco looked away first, walking back to where his mother was standing, his face impassive. Narcissa has no such control.

"Then you do believe! You'll come home with us?"

Home. 

Buffy thought about the house in Sunnydale she was no longer welcome at. The tiny, dirty apartment on Beaudry she cried herself to sleep in every night.

"I think. . . I will. For a little while, at least."

"Wonderful," exclaimed Narcissa. "My own beautiful daughter. Anne Malfoy."

__

Just a little while, thought Buffy. Enough time to heal, if possible. A home. With people who wanted her there.

"Anne Malfoy sounds horribly low-brow," said Draco in disgust.

Well, one person wanted her there. As for the other. . . 

Buffy smirked at her twin brother. 

"Actually, Anne is my middle name. I didn't want to use my real name."

"Well, let's hear it then."

"Buffy."

"No," replied Draco in horror. "Buffy? Absolutely not."

"Buffy Malfoy!" she replied with glee.

Draco became thoughtful.

"Buffy—a derivative of Elizabeth, I assume."

"No. Just Buffy," she said, frowning.

Draco smirked at his twin sister.

"Elizabeth Malfoy. Much better."

"You will not call me Elizabeth!" yelled Buffy.

Draco turned to Narcissa. "Well, mother, shall we get darling Elizabeth home to the manor now?"

As he heard Buffy's shriek of outrage behind him, Draco Malfoy nearly cracked an actual smile.

AN again: Wow. That was more fun than I expected. And longer. 

Okay, here's the deal. At this point, the chapter is over. So why am I still typing? Well, I've been struck by the sudden desire to explain a couple of things about stuff. So if you're the kind of reader who despises when the author starts waxing philosophical about their work, bail out now. Well, review first, then bail.

So, you may or may not have noticed that this part has a chapter title: Light the Light on the Front Porch.

That's because of all the clicking and booming. I don't really like that as the "connection noise" but for some reason it was in my head. Then I realized that I was getting it from a Grandaddy song called "Now it's on." So I thought about that a bit, and I realized the song fit the whole connection thing pretty well. 

Example: 

__

Bust the lock off the front door. 

Once you're outside you won't want to hide anymore. 

Light the light on the front porch.

Once it's on you never wanna turn it off anymore.

And now it's on.

Once I realized that the song was describing exactly what I wanted to describe, I had to leave the click, boom stuff, and I decided to steal a line for the title, too. So apparently, the fic is now trying to become a song fic. Stupid mind of it's own.

~Eris~ 


	4. Part 3

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Thanks to all my reviewers. I think I've become addicted to feedback, which is a very scary thing. Special thanks to the hat trickers **manticore-gurl071134** and **Rosie W**. And on with the show.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 3

"I knew it! You are trying to kill me."

Draco looked at Buffy with frustration.

"Nobody is trying to kill you," he said in a tone that clearly added a few choice words to the end of it.

"Yeah, well, I don't know what planet you come from, but here on Earth we're taught 'fire burn' at a very early age. No matter what color it is."

This discussion was taking place in front of a large fireplace that had begun to burn a merry green after Draco had tossed some powder on it and told Buffy to jump in.

"Draco is right, dear," said Narcissa. "Traveling by floo is a safe as… "

"Stabbing yourself with the Dagger of Death," supplied Draco.

"Yes. Wait, no! Draco, will you please just let that go?" Narcissa shook her head and turned to Buffy. "Speaking of, how is your hand?"

"Speaking of what?" exclaimed Draco. "We were talking about my pain, not hers. We're not even home yet and she's already getting all the attention."

"It's fine," said Buffy, displaying her newly bandaged hand to Narcissa and repressing the urge to stick her tongue out at Draco. "A couple of days and it'll be good as new."

In truth the cuts would probably be healed before tomorrow, but Buffy was determined to keep her slayer status to herself. After all, it was the revelation of her calling that had induced Joyce to kick her out of the house. She wondered if Joyce regretted her harsh words, or if she was glad to have gotten rid of the daughter who had caused her so much trouble. _Adopted daughter_, corrected Buffy mentally. She was probably glad to be rid of such a bad seed.

Buffy felt her eyes begin to burn and she blinked a few times. She would not cry in front of these people she barely knew. She would also not jump into a fire for them.

"So, I'm not jumping into this fire," she told Narcissa conversationally. "How about we take a taxi instead?"

Narcissa chuckled. "We can hardly take a taxi to England."

"England? I didn't realize… I mean, I heard the accents and everything, but I didn't think we'd be traveling so… far. Or, you know, by fire."

"It's a very simple and well-known way to travel—in the magic community," said Draco. He eyed Buffy suspiciously. "Which leads to the question of magical abilities. As in yours."

Buffy laughed. "Magic abilities? That'd be a big none. Buffy and magic go together like cookies and ass."

"In the park you said that you knew magic."

"I said that I knew _of_ magic, not that I did it."

"Mother, we cannot possibly take her home. A squib in the Malfoy family? It's never happened before and I refuse to let it happen now."

"What did you just call me?" asked Buffy in a dangerous tone. Narcissa cut in before he had a chance to reply.

"Draco, there's no proof that she's a squib. Just because she hasn't done magic yet doesn't mean she can't learn. I expect that she was simply brought up muggle. Weren't you, dear?"

"I don't know. I think we're Presbyterian but I really haven't been to church in a while. I mean, I've been _in_ churches, but not for uh, worship reasons…"

Buffy trailed off when she saw the blank expression on Narcissa's face.

"So I guess 'muggle' isn't a religion?"

"It means non-magical," explained Narcissa.

"Oh. Well then, yeah, I'm a muggle. Like I said, me and magic are non-mixy things."

"I'm sure that's not true." Narcissa thought for a moment. "Draco, give Buffy your wand. She should be able to use it."

"I'm not giving her my wand," exclaimed Draco.

"I'm not touching his wand," said Buffy at the same time.

Narcissa rubbed her eyes. "This would be easier if we could just get you home. Are you sure you won't use the floo?"

Buffy eyed the fire.

"I'd really rather not."

Draco stepped in front of the fire.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going home. Then _she_," he said with a pointed look at Buffy," will see it's safe, and _I_ won't have to deal with this boring melodrama anymore. Two birds."

"Excelling idea, Draco," said Narcissa, choosing to ignore his second reason. She and Buffy watched as he pulled another handful of floo powder out of the bag and tossed it onto the fire. Dropping the bag next to the fireplace, he stepped in.

"Malfoy Manor."

Then they were alone. Narcissa turned to Buffy and smiled.

"You see? Perfectly safe."

Buffy refrained from pointing out that she had no way of knowing where Draco was and whether he was safe. She assumed that he wouldn't kill himself just to trick her into following suit, though.

"Will you go now?" asked Narcissa.

Buffy stared blindly at the fire. 

"I'm scared," she said softly.

"This isn't about the fire, is it?"

Buffy was careful to not look at Narcissa. 

"I don't think I'm ready to give up on her yet."

Narcissa reached out to touch Buffy, then pulled back her hand.

"There are so many things I want to say," said Narcissa. "That if she could let you go she didn't deserve you. But I don't have that right because I let you go, too. The circumstances… there are always circumstances."

She paused, fiddling with the ornate band on her ring finger.

"I don't know what happened between you and her. I don't know what will happen between you and I. I can't guarantee happiness. But… earlier you said you would try it for a little while. That's all I'm asking for. A little while."

Buffy looked at Narcissa and saw that she had closed her eyes.

"And then," she continued, "you can come back here. Or not. But… you'll have a choice."

_A choice_. Ever since Buffy had found out she was the slayer, she had felt like all of her choices had been taken from her. Slay this vampire, stop that apocalypse, lose your mother, murder your lover… being the chosen one had taken everything from her. And so she had quit. But life as a runaway, she soon discovered, was not exactly teeming with opportunities.

_A choice_. She was sick of life in LA. She was not ready to go back to Sunnydale. And then there was option number three. In truth, she was terrified of going to live in England with complete strangers, who apparently were part of a "magical community" and used fire to get around.

_A choice_. She would be crazy to go. It was dangerous. She knew nothing about these people who claimed to be her family. It was a stupid thing to do on just about every level that existed.

Narcissa still had her eyes closed, Buffy saw. If she had any sense she'd leave right now and pretend it all never happened. 

The door to the street was seven feet away. The bag of magic powder was still by the fireplace. Buffy took a deep breath and made her choice.

"Malfoy Manor."

Buffy had never been accused of having an abundance of sense.

AN again: Feelings. Sigh. Someone pointed out in a review that I need to include those, and rightly so. But it's so hard! I do humor, not angst. And there's nothing funny about angst. Unless it's done wrong, and then it's hilarious. Anyway, I gave it my best shot. Getting rid of Draco did a lot towards making this happen. You just can't have a heart to heart with snark boy in the corner. Hopefully it helped explain some of Buffy's decisions.

Oh, and one last thing. I've been updating at a fairly regular and frenetic pace, and I know that's appreciated. But guess what? It's the weekend, and it's Valentine's day. Interpret that however you want.

~Eris~


	5. Part 4

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Thanks for all the reviews. There will be some specific shout-outs at the end of the chapter.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 4

It had been nearly a week since Buffy had arrived at Malfoy Manor, landing in an ungainly heap at Draco's feet. His snide comment and the subsequent fight they got into simply reinforced Buffy's desire to spend as little time around him as possible, connection or not. If he was determined to dislike her she wasn't going to waste her time trying to convince him otherwise. 

Instead, she spent a lot of time with Narcissa, getting to know the woman who was apparently her actual mother. By mutual consent they kept the talk to more topical subjects like favorite colors, flowers and foods. Buffy knew that Narcissa had given her up to protect her from her father, Lucius, who was currently wearing stripes somewhere. Narcissa knew that Buffy and her other mother had had a falling out and that Buffy had run away. Neither was ready to dig deeper into wounds that were still so fresh.

When she wasn't hanging out with Narcissa, Buffy explored the manor. She found that while it was easy enough to avoid Draco and the creepy little house elves in such a large house, it was hard to avoid the memories that seemed determined to make themselves known.

Giles would have loved the library. It was filled with thousands of books, most about magic and many in languages too ancient for Buffy to fathom. The entire house was overflowing with magical items, and Buffy couldn't help but think of Willow and her budding Wiccan skills. There was enough food in the kitchen to keep Xander happy for years, and all the paintings on the walls moved, a feat that would have shocked and impressed art-lover Joyce. Even the presence of the lesser Scoobies was felt. The closets were big enough even for Cordelia, and upon entering the lower regions of the house Buffy discovered a dungeon with chains strong enough to hold the wolfiest of Ozes.

There were two people that she refused to think about. One was Kendra, whose death was too mixed up in feelings of guilt and self-hatred for Buffy to even contemplate mourning. The other was, of course, Angel. The guilt and self-hatred was there, too, but the real reason was that Angel already took up enough of her time. Every night he invaded her dreams. And every night she killed him, only to have it begin again. 

The top-to-bottom exploration of the house had been her way of avoiding thoughts of Angel. The reminders of the friends and family she had left behind were just pinpricks of pain compared to the sword-through-the-chest pain she got from thinking about Angel. Unfortunately, the house was pretty much explored out. She'd seen the top and she'd seen the bottom. She'd even seen the gardens. Her quest for mindless entertainment had even led her to overcome her dislike of the house-elves for long enough to question one on the location of the television. Of which there was none. In an obvious reflection of Buffy's life as both an American teenager and a slayer, the lack of a TV was more frightening to Buffy than her prior discovery of the dungeon. She tried to watch some paintings for a while, but most were very boring, and one woman from the Victorian era had gotten mad at her for staring. In desperation, Buffy turned to the only person she knew who could distract her fully and completely.

She found Draco in the sitting area of the library. He sat sprawled out on the couch with a massive tome in his lap, idly flipping the pages. If he noticed Buffy come in, he showed no sign.

Buffy sat in a chair across from him. She stared. She shifted. She sighed. She picked up a cushion and calculated the trajectory.

"Don't you dare," said Draco, not looking up from his book.

Buffy lowered the cushion. She pouted. She sighed. She shifted again.

"So… whatcha reading?" she inquired brightly.

Draco continue to ignore her, but she saw the beginning of irritation settle on his face.

"Queenie… hey, Queenie," she said loudly.

"What?" snapped Draco in exasperation.

"What are you reading?"

"Book."

"Of?"

"Words."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "What, like a dictionary?"

Draco sighed and snapped the book shut. He glared at Buffy.

"What do you want, _Elizabeth_?" he demanded, emphasizing the name.

"I'm bored," she whined.

"That's not my problem," he retorted.

"You don't consider this a problem?" Buffy asked. "My sitting here whining and harassing you, keeping you from reading The ABC's of Murder: S is for Sistracide?" 

She surprised a laugh out of him.

"Fine, brat," he said without anger. "I'll teach you some magic. That should keep you busy for a while." 

Buffy tensed. She knew this was a big thing for him to be offering. Still, she shook her head.

"No, no magic. What about a board game? Like Monopoly or, um… Twister?"

Draco ignored her suggestions.

"Why not magic?" he demanded angrily.

"Because I don't want to!"

"You're doing it just to spite me. You know that if I have a sister who doesn't do magic I'll be the laughing stock of—"

"Of what?" exclaimed Buffy, standing up. "The school? Your little click of purebred sheep? Get over yourself, Queen D. Not everything is about you."

She started to leave.

"Why do you call me Queen D?" asked Draco.

Buffy paused and looked over at him. The anger had left his face and he looked genuinely curious. She smiled in acceptance of the peace offering.

"Because you're a royal pain in my ass." She came back to the chair and sat down. "Why do you call me Elizabeth?"

"Because it pisses you off," he said with a smirk.

They sat for a moment in companionable silence.

"I've tried to do magic before," said Buffy suddenly. "It didn't work. I think I'm that octopus thingy."

"Squid," corrected Draco automatically. "I mean, squib."

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"So," he began, "you think you might be a squib. And you're afraid of what I'll say or do because of it."

Buffy sighed. "That about covers it."

"Then it is about me!" exclaimed Draco gleefully, leaping up. "Everything is about me!"

He was so intent on his victory that he didn't see the cushion hurtling towards him until it was nearly too late.

"_Confringria_," said Draco, pulling his wand out as if from nowhere.

The cushion exploded into a mass of feathers that floated gently down, covering Buffy and Draco alike. They surveyed the damage.

"I have to admit," said Buffy plucking feathers out of her hair, "that was pretty cool."

Draco handed her his wand and pulled another feather out of her hair.

"Try it," he said, clearing off a space on the table and setting the feather down. "Father had the whole house magic-proofed, so we won't get into trouble with the Ministry."

Buffy looked at the wand in her hand. Despite the obvious difference in length and circumference, it felt as natural in her grip as a stake usually did.

"Yeah, okay. Should I do the same one?" she asked, pointing the wand at the feather.

"Only if you have something against that table," said Draco. "Try levitation instead. _Wingardium Leviosa_."

He came around the table and took her hand, demonstrating the proper swish and flick.

"Now, swish on _Wingardium_, and flick on _Leviosa_," he instructed.

Buffy flopped her hand around. "_Wingardium Leviosa_," she muttered half-heartedly. Nothing happened.

Draco shook his head.

"You're going to have to try harder than that, Elizabeth."

She tried again, harder. Nothing. Again. Still nothing.

Buffy glared at the feather, ignoring whatever new advice Draco was trying to give her. 

__

I've kicked the asses of bigger bads than you, she told the feather mentally. The feather said nothing.

Draco was babbling about pronunciation, something about o's and a's. 

"Shut up, Queenie," muttered Buffy, not taking her eyes off the feather. She pointed the wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" 

The feather shot to the ceiling and floated there. Buffy looked at it in awe.

"That's so neat!" She exclaimed. "Now I know…"

She stopped suddenly, dropping her hand to her side. The feather made it's way earthward.

Draco frowned at her. "Now you know what?"

Buffy handed the wand back to him. 

"Nothing. Um… I think I'm done for the day."

Draco scowled. "I don't have time to teach you anything else anyway," he said coldly.

"Thank you," called out Buffy apologetically as he strode from the room.

She looked at the feathers that lay scattered across the room. There was no way to tell which was the one she had levitated. Still, a feeling of pride persisted, blending in with the resurgence of guilt.

"Now I know how Willow felt when she levitated her first pencil," said Buffy to the empty room.

AN again: First, as far as _Confringria_ goes, it's a bastardization of the Latin word _confringo_,which means "to break into pieces; to destroy." I didn't want to make up my own magic words, but I couldn't think of an incantation from the books that would suit my purpose.

Second, there are a few people that I feel like I absolutely have to thank and/or respond to.

****

iscariot: Your lengthy review completely made my day. I'd already posted the next part so there wasn't much I could do to implement your suggestions at that point. However, I hope that my take on Buffy's thoughts and her reluctance to jaunt off to England worked for you. As far as whiny Draco is concerned, I'm hoping for an equal amount of mocker and mocked, so be sure to let me know if it seems I'm playing favorites

****

Village-Mystic: As far as the Sunnydale gang goes, they won't play a big part unless Buffy goes back. This is pretty much a Buffy-centric fic (with some focus on Draco). As for Kendra, the timeline I'm using is set after her death, so she will definitely not be playing a big part in the slaying scene :) Thank you for reminding me of her, though. I had pretty much erased her from my mind, and therefore Buffy's mind, which is not a good thing.

And then my undying gratitude to what I like to think of as my "loyal" fans (though I may be deluding myself) of three or more reviews: **manticore-gurl071134**, **Tiger Tiger 2 **(so, no crack? damn), **Village-Mystic**, **Rosie W**, **ShawThang**, **ScruffyWes**, and **Emortis13**. Your continuing support rocks my socks.

If you've asked me a question and are wondering why I haven't replied, it's probably because the question is about plot or pairing. I'm willing to talk style and substance, but I really only have a small idea where this is going, so I don't feel like I can predict anything. Hey, I guess we'll all be surprised with how things turn out!

~Eris~


	6. Part 5

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Reviews, yay! In depth thanks and responses after the show.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 5

Draco was hiding in the garden, moping. He realized this and didn't like it, but found himself unable to stop. The trickle of emotion that had begun with Lucius' imprisonment had become a torrent, and it was all because of _her_. Buffy. His long-lost twin sister.

Draco was honestly no good at self-reflection. Plotting and scheming, yes. Analyzing the weaknesses of others, of course. That was the Slytherin way. But analyzing his own thoughts and feelings? He felt somewhat like how Longbottom must feel in the Potions' classroom. Utterly useless and terrified of blowing something up.

He didn't know how he felt about Buffy. At any given time of the day, if he were to ask himself that question, the answer would invariably be different. Sometimes he truly despised her. After all, she was, in a way, a trade-off for his father. Out with the old and in with the new. And while Lucius was a slimy git whose only encouragement of his son had been a command to "do better than Potter," he was still Draco's father.

So he had lost his father and gained a sister instead. But that wasn't enough. Because he felt like he had lost his mother, too. Narcissa was so happy to be reunited with her darling daughter that she barely paid attention to Draco at all anymore. It was enough to make him want to scribble the rudest words he knew all over the walls of the manor.

Draco knew he was being ridiculous. It wasn't Buffy's fault that his father was in Azkaban, and he knew that if he went to his mother she would welcome him with open arms. He imagined Buffy's reaction should she know what kind of self-pitying thoughts he was entertaining. _Stop whining, Queen D. You just can't handle not being the center of attention_. 

The thought made him smile, and that was the strangest thing. In the few weeks he'd known her she had managed to make him laugh more than anyone else. And she got his humor, too, something that Draco wasn't used to. All the snide comments he made, if not personally insulting to her, seemed to amuse her. He'd never had that before, as Crabbe and Goyle's idea of a good joke was someone getting a quaffle to the groin. (If it had been thrown by one of them, it became a "practical joke").

However well he and Buffy got along humor-wise, though, it seemed that whenever they were starting to connect on an actual level, as oppose to the freaky twin connection they both studious ignored the existence of, something happened to ruin it. Sometimes it was her fault, like what had happened in the library. Shutting down and backing away. But Draco knew he did his share of pulling away and backpedaling, too. He hid behind the façade of jealous brother, and whenever they started to get along he made a cutting remark to remind her that, as far as he was concerned, she was unwanted. 

Half of him hoped that she knew that wasn't how he really wanted to act. He just didn't know what to do with her, didn't know how to accept affection and be affectionate in return. The other half was terrified that she already knew, that she knew everything about him and that she didn't like him anyway. And that was the problem. Caught between hating the idea of her but liking the actuality, wanting her to admire him but being terrified that once she saw what kind of a person he was she would hate him, or worse yet be completely indifferent.

There were things in Buffy's past that she didn't want to talk about, and that was fine. But, Draco reflected, his life hadn't been all sunshine and daisies either. She was lucky not to have been raised by Lucius, not to have been pushed towards a life of general evilness. He no longer felt the same amount of pride in his Slytherin behavior as he once had, and it was in part because of her. If she knew what kind of a horrible git he has been in the past she would probably hate him. Not that he cared. They could each keep a part of themselves hidden away from the other, and in that way never truly connect. Which, thought Draco, was fine with him. He was tired of self-analysis, of picking through his feelings. He didn't want to connect with her anyway.

As if to taunt the "case closed" decision Draco had just come to, Buffy came round the corner of the house. Draco saw her as prancing along, no doubt having come from cozying up to _his_ mother in _his_ house. Eating food from _his_ kitchen. Wearing clothes bought with _his_ money. Now she was going to come up to him and say something terribly witty, irreverently calling him Queen D even though he was technically the master of this household. Well, he wasn't going to put up with it any longer.

As she got closer he tensed up, ready to do battle.

"Hey!" exclaimed Buffy. "Narcissa has been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing out here, Coco?"

Draco stood perfectly still for a moment, too shocked to even breathe. She had called him Coco. Him. Prince of Slytherin. Terror of Hogwarts.

In his mind's eye he was strolling down a corridor at school, sending dangerous glares at anyone who looked his way. Second and third years pulled aside new students, whispering comments and averting their gazes. 

"Be careful!" 

"Don't mess with the Slytherin Prince." 

"Don't you know who that is?" 

"Coco, the terror of Hogwarts." 

He felt something inside him loosen, then let go. And then he was laughing, really laughing, almost peeing in his pants with laughter. It was silly and undignified and he couldn't care less.

Buffy stood watching him with a grin until he finally regained control of himself, bladder included.

"What I am doing?" he repeated her question. "Why, nothing, Fifi. Nothing at all."

He wondered if she realized that she had finally broken him. He still wasn't completely sure how he felt about her, but it definitely wasn't hatred. That would have to be enough for now.

AN again: Oh, my God, Stream-of-consciousness!Draco. I have no idea how that happened, and I honestly don't know how I feel about the end product. Feel free to tell me how you really feel about this chapter, if I get enough blind hatred I may be convinced to take it down and try something different. I also might call a curse down on all your houses and leave it up in revenge. We all take risks in life.

Pairings, pairings, pairings! You all are a very demanding lot! To tell you the truth my lack of direction in shipping surprised me, as I'm a huge fan of fiction in which people get hooked up. But to quote the Bare Naked Ladies, it's all been done before. And creepily enough, if you combine all the sibling fiction with all the pairing ones, you come up with a whole lotta incest.

But anyway, I'm now a man, er… girl, with a plan. But it's a secret! And might not ever take place at all. And will probably not please anybody but myself. (I didn't say it was a good plan).

And so now I'm all crazy rambling again, which I'm sure is irritating to everyone who opens the page and sees how long it is, but then finds out that half the text is this insanity. Which brings me to my request for a sounding board/creative consultant to throw things at. (Um, ideas. Not, you know, rocks). Then instead of harassing all of you I'll just torture one. The only benefit would be knowing more of the plot line than anyone else. Email me if you're interested at **GoddessEris00@yahoo.com**.

Moving along… thanks to everyone who reviewed, the feedback is very inspiring and as I'm writing this on a day to day basis sometimes your suggestions do in fact have an effect on the work. Bonus airline miles go to: **anon, becks89, manticore-gurl071134, ScruffyWes, Tiger Tiger 2, ShawThang, Village-Mystic, Darklight**, and **Emortis13** for being so wonderfully faithful. 

~Eris~ 


	7. Part 6

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: And the issues keep on rolling. 

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 6

Buffy's life at Malfoy Manor had fallen into a pleasant routine. Her relationship with Narcissa had continued to thrive and she and Draco were, oddly enough, getting along. Of course, they still had tri-daily tiffs, most likely because they were both strong, independent people with different opinions that they liked to voice. Loudly. The fact that they had each been raised as only children didn't help matters either. 

Fortunately, tempers cooled almost as quickly as they flared, and Buffy and Draco spent most of their time together amicably. Although Draco had wanted to continue teaching Buffy spells, she had refused. Though Draco was not pleased by this refusal to learn magic, he kept his temper and instead decided to teach her general knowledge of the wizarding world. 

Buffy enjoyed learning about the wizarding world, about Hogwarts and Quidditch, and even managed to stay awake through the first half of Draco's retelling of the Goblin Rebellion. Unfortunately, the one topic that she was most interested in was never broached: that of her father, Lucius Malfoy. 

Gently probing Narcissa led nowhere, as even a mention of the word "father" could send her into tears. Less-than-subtle hint dropping at Draco was equally fruitless, as he chose to play dumb. And the only thing in the manor that she found of his was a very large portrait half hidden down a rarely frequented hallway. Obviously the family had gone out of the way to remove all signs of him from their home, and based on the contemptuous glare Buffy received from Lucius' portrait counterpart, she couldn't say she blamed them.

Still, Buffy thought, Lucius was her father, and a part of her "life that could have been." She had a right to know what kind of a man he was and why he was in prison. The time for hinting and skirting around the issue was over; she was ready to get answers.

She found Draco in the Red Parlor, apparently searching for something in the cupboards.

"What are you doing?" she inquired.

Startled, Draco jumped slightly, nearly knocking a jar of something dark and slimy off a shelf. He steadied it and turned around.

"Uh…"

"Isn't that the forbidden closet of mystery?" 

Draco blinked.

"You know," continued Buffy. "That cabinet with all the illegal Dark Arts stuff Narcissa said not to mess with."

Draco turned back to the cupboard and gazed at it in apparent surprise.

"Why, so it is," he exclaimed, and shut the doors. "I thought it was the pantry."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. So if you're done looking at wizard porn…" Buffy trailed off, deep in thought. "Wizard porn," she repeated slowly. "Moving pictures. Oh, ew!"

She shook her head as if to erase the mental pictures.

"What do you need?" asked Draco when Buffy showed no sign of returning to the subject.

"Hmm? Oh! I wanted to ask some more questions."

"Yeah, okay," said Draco, sitting down. "You want to pick up with the Goblin Rebellion?"

"Actually," began Buffy slowly, "I was hoping we could talk about Lucius."

"No."

"Why not?" demanded Buffy.

"I don't want to," retorted Draco, clearly upset.

"You can't just… decide that you don't want to and so that's it for Buffy's lesson on Lucius. He's my father, too," she said angrily, stalking across the floor.

"No, he's not!" yelled Draco, leaping out of his chair.

Buffy and Draco stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Draco was first to crack.

"Lucius isn't anybody's father. Trust me."

Buffy slowly headed back over.

"I do trust you. I trust you to tell me the truth more than Narcissa. She's too caught up in the guilt of letting me go."

"Maybe I feel guilty, too."

Buffy frowned and tried to catch his gaze, but Draco refused to look at her.

"You haven't done anything to me," she said softly.

"Not everything is about you, Queen B," said Draco, attempting a smile. When Buffy didn't respond he sighed and sat back down.

"Lucius… talking about Lucius is like, like ripping my heart out and showing you… that it's black."

"Wow," said Buffy, sitting down on the couch adjacent to his chair. "I don't understand that at all. But, uh… nice imagery."

"Lucius made me in his image, made me what I am."

"Well," said Buffy hesitantly, "you seem like a nice enough guy."

Draco ran a hand through his hair.

"For most of my life, Lucius pretty much ignored me. He'd visit sporadically to make sure that Mother was raising me in a way befitting a Malfoy, and then leave again. Later I found out that he was a Death Eater, and had been busy with preparations for the Dark Lord's return."

"Dark Lord?" broke in Buffy.

"Yeah. Lord V— Voldemort. A very evil wizard. Death Eaters are those who support him. Anyway, when he finally began to pay attention to me, I was overjoyed. He wanted me to be more like him, and I was more than willing, just to have him around. When he talked, I really listened. And he talked a lot," Draco laughed bitterly.

"He was full of 'pureblood' this and 'family honor' that. 'A Malfoy is second to no wizard,' he said, and told me it was our duty to help Voldemort rid the world of the muggles and mudbloods."

"Did you believe him?"

"At first I didn't even realize what he was really talking about. I had lived a very isolated life, and for all I knew muggles were a particularly nasty breed of garden gnome. Then I started at Hogwarts with the strict instructions that I was to befriend a boy named Harry Potter and bring him to our side. Of course my people skills were rather lacking and I botched the whole thing."

Draco gripped the arm of his chair tightly. 

"The first time he asked me to do something for him, and I failed. And I kept failing, losing Quidditch matches to Potter and coming second best in marks to Hermione Bloody Granger, a muggle-born witch. Father was livid."

Buffy reached over and placed her hand on his. His grip on the chair loosened and he continued.

"It turned out alright in the end, I suppose. Being at Hogwarts exposed me to the real world, as it were, and I saw that there wasn't much difference between purebloods and the rest of the wizarding world. That realization, combined with the fact that I would never be able to make Lucius happy pretty much ruined me as far as becoming a Death Eater was concerned."

"Well, it all worked out then, right? Your heart's not so black as you would have me believe," teased Buffy.

"I'm still evil, though," he insisted. "I learned everything I could from Lucius and used that knowledge to torture others. For my own reasons, but that doesn't make them any less horrible."

"What, you made fun of that Harry Potter kid? So you're a bully, get over it."

Draco didn't look convinced.

"I once gave Granger beaver teeth," he said.

"Like, as a gift?"

"No. Like magic. Poof. Teeth," explained Draco, morosely making wand motions with his hands. 

"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"It's not too good, though, is it? And that's just one thing. There are a million. I provoked a hippogriff into biting me and nearly cost him his life and Hagrid his job."

"A hippogriff? A cross between a hippo and a grifter?" asked Buffy.

"No. A sort of bird and horse creature, I think."

"It's funnier my way."

"Really not the point of my story," replied Draco. "Please stop trying to ignore what I'm telling you. I am the son of a Death Eater. It's in me, in what I've done before and what I might still do." 

Buffy sighed and pulled her hand away from his.

"I know I haven't told you much about my life before, and the truth is that I still can't. But it was pretty messed up."

Buffy paused.

"One time I killed my mother's boyfriend"

Draco was appropriately shocked.

"What?"

"He attacked me, and while I was fighting back I pushed him down the stairs."

"That's self-defense."

"Yeah," agreed Buffy, "that, and the fact that he was a psycho robot who was drugging us all."

Draco's shock continued.

"A robot? That's one of those… mechanical things, right? Not alive? Then you didn't kill him at all."

Buffy looked at her hands, clenched into fists on her lap.

"Well, I did and I didn't. He was a robot, but I didn't know that. It was an accident, but it was my fault. It all worked out, but it might not have."

She flexed her hands.

" I have this… temper, I guess you could say, that I have to be careful about. If I slip up, people can get hurt."

She turned to look at Draco.

"People make mistakes, but most don't get second chances. In that case, I did. And now you do. You don't want to be evil like Lucius? Then don't be. It's never too late for redemption."

Draco sat back and considered everything she had said. Finally, he relaxed.

"Killer robots? You did have a strange life."

"Says the boy whose daily wardrobe is set out by a little elf named Dinky."

"Shut up. At least I take advantage of their services. You run in the other direction whenever one comes along."

Buffy said nothing for a moment, and Draco smirked triumphantly, clearly feeling that he had won the round.

"Any other questions?" he asked.

"Just a couple. First, you're going to have to bring me up to date on all that big bad evil stuff sometime soon."

"Alright. And the other?"

Buffy grinned.

"Tell me more about your secret crush on _Hermione_," said Buffy in a sing-songy voice.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Draco got up and walked out of the room, two telltale spots of red burning on his cheeks.

AN again: Well, that's like the third hint I've dropped on Draco's feeling towards Hermione. (And by hint I mean big, heart-shaped brick). Now if we can only get her to feel the same way, we'll finally have a pairing to declare! (And since first writing this a million and three people have told me not to worry about pairings, it's too soon, etc. Well, uh… too late! But it's not like its going to go anywhere, is it? I mean, there are three characters interacting in my story so far, and they're all related.)

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially to: **anon, Becks89, Darklight, Dreamer22, manticore-gurl071134, Rosie W, ShawThang, **and **Susan. **You guys are the equivalent of the toy in my Happy Meal. One of the cool ones, like a Hot Wheel.

Super special thanks (uber thanks, in fact) to my new best friend **ScruffyWes** for undertaking the arduous task of putting up with my shenanigans, neuroses, and insomnia-induced rants. Oh, and for helping with the story :)

Be prepared for action next time. I hope.

~Eris~


	8. Part 7

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: And so we finally move into plot. I think.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 7

"Well that was quite possibly the most ridiculous move I've ever seen."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at the Knight on the board. 

"Keep up that attitude and you're next," she informed him.

She and Draco were currently playing wizard chess. Well, Draco was playing chess, while Buffy seemed more intent on seeing how many pieces on either side she could destroy.

"I think you're missing the point of the game, Elizabeth," said Draco. "You should be strategizing, not just sending out random pieces to kill or be killed."

Buffy shrugged.

"Got to make a sacrifice if you want to win," said Buffy without thinking. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she stilled. Forcing herself to keep the same light tone, she added, "besides, all the smashy violence? Very cool." 

Draco rolled his eyes and began plotting his move. Knowing that it could take him up to and over ten minutes, Buffy turned her thoughts to Sunnydale, and Angel.

Angel. At the beginning of the summer she had not been able to think about him at all. Now the sudden stab of pain that normally accompanied thoughts of him had dulled to a slow ache. She still had nightmares about him, but not to the same degree as before. She felt like she was at a place emotionally where she wouldn't break down crying upon entering her old town.

And she did want to go back to Sunnydale, even just for five minutes. She missed Giles and Willow and Xander. Her mom. She even missed the cemeteries. At the same time, she was comfortable here at Malfoy Manor. She was happy in a way that she had never been able to be in Sunnydale. In Sunnydale she was the Slayer, she had a duty to perform regardless of the personal cost. Here she was just Buffy, or Elizabeth, as Draco continued to call her. Her only duties were to be a daughter and a sister.

"Your move," said Draco, looking at her oddly.

"Oh, sorry," said Buffy, coming out of 'deep thought' mode. She looked at the board and smiled.

"I believe your time is up," she told the back-talking Knight. He grumbled and moved to the indicated square, directly in front of Draco's Queen.

"You must have been pretty deep in thought to have made such a careless move," smirked Draco, as his Queen moved up to fight, and beat, the Knight.

"Or maybe I was luring you into a trap."

Draco looked at the board and frowned, realizing too late that his Queen would be taken by Buffy's Bishop.

"Told you," laughed Buffy. She had yet to win a game against Draco, mostly, she insisted, because he took so long to make a move that she ended up sacrificing all of her pieces out of boredom.

She watched the epic battle play out between the two pieces.

"So tell me more about this Valuemart guy," said Buffy idly.

Draco looked up from his serious study of the board.

"It's really not a good idea to mock the Dark Lord, you know. In fact, most wizards are too afraid to even say his name."

"Really? How odd. Is it like the 'Bloody Mary' thing? Say his name five times in front of a dark mirror and he'll show up to attack you with his low, low prices?"

Draco shook his head.

"He's a truly evil wizard—"

"Yeah, the Dark Lord of Savings," interrupted Buffy.

"… who has killed hundred of muggles and muggle-born wizards, not to mention people he just general didn't care for," finished Draco with a less-than-pleased look.

Buffy grimaced.

"Sorry. I know it's bad and serious. But if you can't mock evil, who can you mock?"

"The poor. The elderly. The ugly. Midg—"

"Hey, now! That's enough," said Buffy, cutting him off.

"Oh, are we being serious now?" asked Draco. "Fine. So _Voldemort_, also known as You-Know-Who, the Dark Lord, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, and Tom Riddle, wants to wipe out anyone who isn't a pureblood, and then rule the world."

"Gee, a megalomaniac with split personality disorder. Sounds like the perfect guy to have in control. So why does he hate that Potter kid so much?"

"Who wouldn't? Potter's a git."

Buffy looked at him.

"Well, it also might have something to do with the fact that as a baby, Potter accidentally deflected the killing curse with his oversized head, defeating Voldemort temporarily."

Buffy continued to simply stare.

"Really, that's all I know. He's even got a scar on his forehead that proves it."

"Really? What, was this baby's head made of metal or something?"

"I don't know. Voldemort wasn't exactly handing out 'How-to' pamphlets to his underlings or sharing his secret weaknesses over a pint down at the pub. I mean, he's got a group of ambitiously evil witches and wizards at his command. Loyalty isn't really their strongpoint."

"And these ambitious people… they're the Death Eaters?"

"Yeah. A bunch of masked men and women running around, doing Voldemort's bidding."

Buffy tensed suddenly, her slayer senses coming out of the near doze they'd been in all summer. She stood up.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco.

"I'm not sure," she replied, moving towards a window. "Just out of curiosity, how many times have we said Voldemort today?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't know. Four, maybe five."

"Bloody Mary," said Buffy, and it sounded like a curse.

Draco joined her at the window. They were overlooking the sprawling backyard of Malfoy Manor, and the five cloaked figures stood out clearly against the green backdrop.

"Death Eaters," said Draco. "But why would they attack Malfoy Manor?"

"Maybe they're just stopping by for a visit," suggested Buffy.

"They're not really the social kind."

They watched as the Death Eaters got closer. Buffy suddenly turned to Draco.

"Narcissa!" she exclaimed.

"The kitchen. It's at the back of the house, too."

"And that's the way they'll be coming in."

They simultaneously moved away from the window and bolted out of the room.

They found Narcissa sitting at the kitchen table, reading.

"Mother," panted Draco, "Death Eaters are coming."

She calmly rose from the table.

"There's a secret room off of the Red Parlor. We can hide there."

Draco began herding the women towards the hallway.

"You two go hide. I'm going to see what they want," he said grimly.

"I'm staying, too," said Buffy.

"Don't be stupid. It's too dangerous."

"I can handle it," replied Buffy, turning back to Narcissa before Draco could reply. "Go get help. Send the house-elves here. And if you hear anyone coming out of the kitchen, go hide."

Narcissa paused.

"Trust me," begged Buffy. "It'll be okay."

Narcissa nodded and hurried out. Buffy turned back to a very livid Draco.

"What do you think you're doing? The only spell you bothered learning was _Wingardium Leviosa_, and you can't even do that without my wand."

"Remember that temper I told you about?" said Buffy grimly. "Well, you're about to see it in action."

She looked towards the back door.

"They're here," she said.

The door was blasted inward and the Death Eaters came in, wands ready.

"Definitely not a social call," said Draco. "_Stupefy_!"

Suddenly the air was full of the sounds of various spells being yelled out, and streaks of colored light shot out of wands. Astonished, Buffy stood and watched for a moment, before realizing that a good many of those streaks were headed her way. She quickly ducked behind the counter and turned to see how Draco was doing.

Now that she was out of sight, all five of the Death Eaters seemed to be focusing their attention on Draco, who valiantly fought back from his position behind the kitchen table. He was clearly was at a disadvantage. Spying a bottle of wine sitting on the counter above her, Buffy stood up and grasped it firmly around the neck.

"Hey, Darth Vadar!" she yelled, whipping the bottle at the closest Death Eater. He turned to look in time to receive a bottle to the face, which promptly shattered, soaking him and filling the room with the heavy scent of overly expensive wine. 

Before 'Darth Vadar' had even hit the floor, Buffy vaulted over the counter and delivered a well-aimed high-kick to another Death Eater's head. He stumbled back and aimed his wand, but before he got the first syllable out Buffy kicked the wand out of his hand, catching it in midair and snapping it.

"Oh, look," she told him, holding out the pieces. "You've been neutered." 

She then drove her fist into his face and watched with satisfaction as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Turning back to survey the room, she was hit by a flash of light, and froze.

__

I can't move, thought Buffy. _This sucks_.

She strained but could not get her body to respond.

_Really, really sucks._

Then she was free again, and the shock of being able to move sent her crashing to the floor. Scooting around on her butt, she came face to face with a grinning Dinky.

"Ah, crap," she said. "Now I'm going to have to be nicer to you guys."

Standing, Buffy saw that there were now three Death Eaters on the floor, leaving only two to fight against her, Draco and the newly arrived house-elves.

The remaining Death Eaters seemed to realize their disadvantage at the same time. They each grabbed one of their fallen comrades and disappeared.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Buffy, running to stand over the only Death Eater left in the room, the one she had first taken out with the wine. "This one's mine."

She bent over and heaved him up.

"How do I get him to not disappear?" she asked Draco.

"He's unconscious," he replied. "He's not going anywhere."

She lugged the body over to a chair and dropped him in it.

"Want to expose him?" she asked.

Draco hesitated, then stepped over and pulled off the mask. He frowned in disgust.

"Crabbe's father. Like I really needed another reason to avoid that simpleton."

Buffy laughed, and Draco turned his frown on her.

"And you and I are going to have a little chat about what just happened here."

"Yeah," sighed Buffy. "But what are we going to do about smelly, here?"

Narcissa walked in. 

"I've already owled the Ministry," she informed them, coming over to make sure they were both unhurt.

Moment later several more people appeared in the room with a pop. Buffy automatically fell into a defensive stance.

"Aurors," Draco told her. "Good guys." 

One of the aurors glared at Draco.

"Too bad we can't say the same about you," he said.

Buffy made a move towards him, but stopped at a look from Draco that clearly said to let it go.

The aurors secured Crabbe's body, and all but one disapparated. The remaining man came over and handed Narcissa a piece of parchment.

"We'll be in touch," he said, before vanishing after his friends.

With the absence of the aurors a silence fell over the room. Buffy looked from Draco to Narcissa, and took a deep breath.

"So," she began, "ever heard of the Vampire Slayer?"

AN again: Oh, god, I can't write action. Sorry about that. And why would the aurors just leave without getting any kind of explanation? Because I don't want them around!

And here's my final word about pairings. (And then I swear I won't say anything else about them for the rest of the… day). Yes, Draco has a crush on Hermione. Will they end up together? I don't know. So don't get too excited (or too up on a high horse because of the improbability) of this match.

As always, thanks to all my reviewers, and happy, sunshine-y thanks to the loyalists, **Anne, becks89, Elizabeth V, jezowen, krisztina, manticore-gurl071134, Rosie W, ScruffyWes, Sellser, ShawThang, Susan, Tiger Tiger 2, **and **Turn Off the Lights. **

Extra special thanks with a naked WWP on top to **ScruffyWes** who not only puts up with my constant need for reassurance, but also came up with the absolutely brilliant new way for Buffy to massacre Voldemort's name. If not for her you all would have been stuck reading yet another "Moldywort" joke. 

~Eris~ 


	9. Part 8

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: How many times have you read a fic where Buffy has to explain what being a Slayer is? Me too! Well, here's another.

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 8

Buffy, Draco and Narcissa sat at one end of the long dining room table. None of them had wanted to remain in the trashed-out kitchen for this discussion. Unsurprisingly, Buffy didn't want this discussion to take place anywhere, or at any time. She was already regretting her earlier admission of being the Slayer. She had been caught in more compromising positions than this and had always managed to bluff her way out. Of course, Sunnydalians were more prone to sticking their heads in the sand than other people.

"Why do you think the Death Eaters attacked us?" she blurted out suddenly, her voice sounding incredibly loud in the quiet room. It was an obvious stall tactic, but also a genuine question. "I thought that they and Lucius were all chummy."

"I don't know why they came here," said Draco, "and right now I don't care. What I want to know is how you managed to defeat two of them while I barely took out one."

"Jealous?" snarked Buffy.

Draco glared at her and crossed his arms.

"No."

"Liar. You're upset because you were beaten by a girl."

"You didn't beat me, you beat them. If we were to fight, I would very obviously—"

"Enough!" said Narcissa. She looked at Buffy. "What is a Vampire Slayer?"

Buffy winced.

"Um… any chance that you misheard me?" she asked.

"Buffy…"

"Okay, okay. Let's see, how does this go again… into every generation a Slayer is born… one girl… that's me, with the strength and skills to smack-down all kinds of big, bad and scary creatures. Ringing any bells?"

Draco and Narcissa both stared at her blankly.

"So… no. I just figured since you guys are a part of the magic hotline, maybe you knew something about it."

"Obviously not," said Draco. "Care to unmuddle that little speech for us?"

"Well, you know about vampires and demons and stuff, right?"

At their nods of assent she continued.

"Okay, so, the Slayer was created to protect the weak and clueless from all this evil. It's actually a very long and dull story, and I mostly tuned Giles out whenever he got going about it."

"Giles?" questioned Narcissa 

"Yeah. He's my Watcher. Every Slayer gets a Watcher to, well, watch over her and tell her what to slay."

"Why one?" asked Draco. "Assuming I believe this for now."

Buffy frowned at him.

"Why one what?"

"Why one girl? Why not create a whole army to combat the evil?"

Buffy laughed bitterly.

"You're asking the wrong girl. I know it doesn't make sense. To be perfectly honest with you, it sucks worse than a Luke Perry movie. That's why…"

Buffy trailed off.

"That's why you left," filled in Narcissa gently. Draco was slower to catch on.

"Well, if you're here now, who is protecting the people from all the demons?" he asked.

Buffy didn't answer.

"Oh," said Draco softly.

Buffy sighed. 

"So do you believe me?"

"Of course," Narcissa was quick to reply.

"I don't know," said Draco at the same time. "What proof do you have that you're some kind of demon killer?"

"Slayer," corrected Buffy. "Let's see… I can sense most demons. I have accelerated healing, but I'd rather not demonstrate that. Super strength…"

She grinned at Draco.

"How about I throw you across the room?" suggested Buffy.

"I'd really rather you not," cut in Narcissa quickly. She turned to Draco. "If your sister says she has super powers, then she has super powers. Leave it alone."

Buffy snickered at the look on Draco's face while at the same time thinking about Narcissa's easy acceptance of her daughter's Slayer-ness. Compared to Joyce…

_It doesn't compare_, thought Buffy suddenly. _Narcissa grew up in the wacky fun world of magic. Joyce got it all dumped on her in one night. Comparing the two…_

"It just doesn't make sense," said Draco. "Where does this "power" come from? And how does it work?" 

"This would be a lot easier if we were in Sunnydale," said Buffy. "Then we could just hit a couple of cemeteries and poof! Proof that I'm a Slay-gal extrordinaire."

"Well, we're not," said Draco rudely.

"Draco," warned Narcissa, and they were off again.

Buffy tuned them out. If she was in Sunnydale… thought Buffy. But she wasn't. She had run away to hide from her pain and from her calling. But even though she was hundreds of miles from the Hellmouth and her duties, at the first sign of trouble her Slayer senses had kicked in. And when Draco and Narcissa had wanted an explanation, she had told them point-blank that she was the Slayer, without even thinking about it.

_I am the Slayer, _thought Buffy. 

She had left her friends sitting on top of an unguarded Hellmouth. She had left the people of Sunnydale at the mercy of the next big bad to come along. She had done all of this in an attempt to leave the Slayer behind, but that was impossible. She was the Slayer. 

_I am the Slayer. The Slayer is me._

It was time to go back, Buffy realized. It was time to face the consequences of her actions, and to accept her fate.

_Slayer_.

"Now apologize to your sister," she heard Narcissa say.

Sister. Family. She could go home to protect her friends and family in Sunnydale, but who would protect Draco and Narcissa?

"The Death Eaters," said Buffy.

Draco and Narcissa looked at her in confusion.

"We need to talk about he Death Eaters," she clarified. "Why they came here and whether or not they'll do it again."

"I don't know why they attacked us," said Draco. "But since they didn't appear to get what they want…"

"Then we can assume that they'll be back to try again."

He nodded.

"Okay," Buffy sat back and thought for a minute.

"Draco, you're going to Hogwart's soon, right? And that's like, the Disneyland of safety."

He blinked.

"Safest place on earth," explained Buffy with a sigh.

"So the story goes," replied Draco.

"So you'd be safe there. And Narcissa… we can't leave you here alone."

Both Draco and Narcissa frowned. The automatic and nearly identical expression made Buffy smile.

"Alone?"

"But…"

Before either of them had a chance to finish their thoughts, a snowy owl swooped into the room.

"You've got mail," said Buffy, having seen this phenomenon a couple of times before.

The owl dropped a letter in front of Narcissa and flew away. Narcissa picked it up and broke the seal.

"It's from Dumbledore," she said scanning the letter. "He heard about the attack and is offering me a place to stay."

"Absolutely not," said Buffy.

"What? Why?" inquired Draco. "You were just saying—"

"Exactly. I asked for something, and here it is. I don't believe in coincidences. This is obviously some badly thought out plan thrown together by the Death Eaters."

"Trust me," said Draco. "Dumbledore may be a barmy old coot, but he's the last person who'd be involved in a Death Eater plot."

Buffy looked at him.

"Honestly," he insisted.

"Well, I don't have any idea what 'barmy' means, but I trust you. If you say this Dumble dude is on the level, I'm going to believe you."

Buffy reached across the table and took the letter, reading over it quickly.

"Mugwump? What…? Oh, forget it. I don't care."

She put down the letter.

"Alright. Draco is going to Hogwarts. Narcissa can go to this safe-house thing," said Buffy.

"And where are you going?" asked Narcissa softly. The sheen of tears in her eyes suggested that she already knew the answer.

"I," said Buffy grimly, "am going back to Sunnydale."

AN again: So, um… to everyone wishing and hoping and praying that Buffy would be going to Hogwarts soon… sorry! And to those of you who wanted her to patch things up with the Sunnydale gang… you're welcome!

Many thanks for all the reviews and my warmest regards to: **Anne, anon, Becks89, Botticelli's Venus, Darklight, Dreamer 22, Elizabeth V, jezowen, manticore-girl071134, Miss Kayl, Rosie W, ScruffyWes, ShawThang, Susan, Tiger Tiger 2, Turn Off the Lights, **and** Village-Mystic.** You guys put the ram in the ram-a-lam-a-ding-ding.

Once again, insane amounts of thanks to **ScruffyWes**, the best darn sounding board/creative counselor I ever did see. 

On that note, she and I have undertaken a new task, that of writing a joint story called "Crossing Over" under the pen name **ScruffyGoddess**. If you've ever sat back while reading crossover fiction and gone "What?" or "Not again!" I recommend that you give it a try. No fic is safe, including my own! 

~Eris~


	10. Part 9

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Warning: extreme sap ahead.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 9

Buffy was packing. Despite the fact that she had arrived at Malfoy Manor with nothing but the clothes on her back, she had already filled an entire trunk with clothes that Narcissa had bought for her, both robes, at Narcissa's insistence, and regular clothing at her own. The trunk was over-filled, in fact, and Buffy doubted that she'd be able to shut it, even with enhanced strength.

With a small sigh, Buffy began removing the robes. Although they were pretty, and she was attached to them in the sense that they were given to her by her mother, there was simply not enough room. Besides, she hadn't really worn them much anyway, and could certainly not get away with wearing them around Sunnydale High. Talk about a fashion faux pas. Of course, she might not be allowed back into the high school at all, having been expelled before she ran away.

Buffy paused in her packing and stared at the pile of robes on her bed without seeing them. Was she going to be allowed back in school? Was she going to be allowed back in her _house_? For awhile it had seemed like the only decision to be made was her own, but this simply wasn't true. She had no way of knowing whether or not she'd be accepted back in Sunnydale by a_nyone_. 

Buffy sank down onto the bed next to the robes. She wondered if she was doing the right thing by going back to Sunnydale. After all, she had been gone all summer, and the world was still around. If any apocalypses had been averted, it was without her help. 

_Am I making a huge mistake? _wondered Buffy, picking up a soft, velvet robe and holding it up to her cheek. 

"What are you doing?" asked Draco amusedly, leaning against the doorframe.

Buffy looked up at him and smiled.

"Thinking about the things I can't take with me," she said.

He looked from the pile of robes on her bed to the mostly full trunk.

"They don't fit? I could shrink them for you."

Buffy laughed. Trust a boy to completely miss the point.

"That's okay," she replied. "I wouldn't be able to unshrink them again, and then I'd just have a very large collection of doll's clothes and no dolls."

Draco shrugged, and stood up.

"I, uh…" he shifted his feet. "I have something for you."

"Ooh, presents!" exclaimed Buffy, her earlier melancholy forgotten.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace that was nearly identical to the one they had first shown her in the park.

"Oh, goody," said Buffy dryly. "Another vial of blood."

"It's called the—"

"_Geminus Cruor_," interrupted Buffy, picking up a box from her dresser and tossing it to Draco. "It was the first thing I looked up in the library. I wanted to be sure that the magic show in the park wasn't some trick." 

Draco opened up the box and pulled out yet another necklace. Buffy grinned at his surprised expression.

"Narcissa let me borrow the Dagger of Death."

Draco dropped the necklace around his neck, then handed its match to Buffy. As she put hers on, both vials flared, then dimmed. Inside the vial the blood had turned into what looked like some sort of crystal.

"Hmm… this one's nicer than the last one you gave me," observed Buffy. "Less ooky and painful."

Draco frowned slightly.

"Do you feel that…"

"Tingle? Yeah. It's weird, but not bad."

"I guess you read about what it's supposed to do," said Draco.

"I browsed the chapter. Designed to deepen the bond between twins… blah, blah, blah. Especially useful in finding long-lost sisters."

Draco smiled.

"Something like that. Although the book wasn't clear on exactly what that entails."

"As long as we don't do any kind of creepy mind-meld, I think it'll be okay," said Buffy. "The inside of your head seems like a scary, scary place."

Draco looked mildly offended.

"I'm sure my head is a wonderful place to be. You'd be lucky to get in there."

"And learn all your secrets?"

"And learn all my… oh. Well, when you put it that way, please stay out of my head."

Buffy chuckled and began putting the robes back in the wardrobe.

"Speaking of methods of communication, I'm going to need a way to stay in touch with you."

Narcissa walked in.

"Both of you," said Buffy, smiling at her.

Narcissa smiled back.

"You two aren't the only ones who have been busy making things."

She showed Buffy a simple wooden jewelry box with a lock and the letters N and D engraved on top.

"You put the missive inside," she demonstrated, "then turn the key in the direction of one of the letters. I'm sure you can figure out which will send to who."

"That's pretty complicated magic," said Draco, impressed.

Buffy took the box and looked it over carefully.

"You must have started working on this a long time ago," she said softly.

Narcissa smiled sadly.

"Yes."

Buffy nodded. Her summer at Malfoy Manor had been wonderful, but was exactly that. A summer. She might have been confused about what she was going to do, but Narcissa at least had realized that Buffy would eventually go back to Sunnydale, to tie up loose ends if nothing else.

"How do I get back?" she asked. "Fireplace again?"

Narcissa laughed.

"No, I decided against making you go through that again. I had a portkey made for you."

Narcissa brought forth another box, smaller this time, and handed it to Buffy.

"There's a ring inside," she said. "When you put it on, it'll take you to LA. I tried to have one made that would go directly to Sunnydale, but the designer told me that it wasn't possible."

Buffy tried to sound casual.

"Well, Sunnydale's a wacky place," she said. She had no desire to explain about the Hellmouth as it would probably lead to an argument with Draco about why she shouldn't go home.

"Anyway," continued Narcissa, "as soon as you're ready to go, put it on and you'll be transported to the same building in LA we flooed out of. After that the ring will simply be a piece of jewelry."

"It's pretty," Buffy said.

She looked up at them.

"I think I'm ready now."

"So soon?" asked Narcissa, trying to hold back tears.

"Are you sure you have everything?" demanded Draco. "Maybe you should check the rest of the house again."

Buffy shook her head.

"Everything I need is in this room," she said, walking over to the trunk and shutting it.

She turned back to them.

"I'll keep in touch," she promised. "You'll be hearing so much from me, you'll wish you never gave me this mail box."

Narcissa stepped up and hugged her.

"You can come back any time," she whispered.

Buffy nodded and turned to Draco.

"Do I get a hug from you, Queen D?"

He nodded.

"Bye, Draco," she said, hugging him tightly.

"Bye, Buffy," he replied softly.

As they pulled away, both had a suspicious shimmer in their eyes.

Buffy got out the ring and picked up her trunk. She took a deep breath.

"Wish me luck," she said, slipping the ring on her finger and disappearing before either of them could say anything.

The room suddenly seemed much too big and empty to Draco and Narcissa, and they walked out together, closing the door softly behind them.

AN again: Ick. But it had to be done. Oh, and the Latin thing means "Twinned Blood." I hope.

Q&A: Just a couple of answers and responses I feel like giving. 

As far as chapter length goes, yes, I realize that mine are not particularly long. However, I update just about every two or three days. Do the math.

Would the house elves serve Draco? (In reference, I believe, to the setting out clothes comment from way back when.) Yes. Even if my version of Draco was the cruelest person alive, house elves are bound to obey their masters. (Until someone stashes a sock in a book, of course).

Do I realize that Faith and Angel should be coming? Well, I realize that happens on the show. I'm not writing the show. You want to watch the show, I won't stop you.

And last but not least, another disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Draco, and therefore do not have dibs on the Buffy/Draco sibling story. You want it? Take it and run off laughing into the night.

Now on to the fun stuff! Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially to the hopelessly devoted few: **A Watcher, Becks89, Botticelli's Venus, Darklight, Dreamer22, jezowen, manticore-gurl071134, Rosie W., ScruffyWes, ShawThang, Tiger Tiger 2, Turn Off the Lights, **and **Village-Mystic**. Words cannot describe how happy you make me :)

As always, a plethora of thanks to my dear old chum **ScruffyWes**, who may or may not one day show up at my door unannounced. (And I just might let her in!) 

~Eris~


	11. Part 10

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Hope you guys all liked Dead Man's Party.

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 10

Buffy stood outside the door to her house. She had arrived in Sunnydale by bus about an hour before, and had stopped to stash the trunk of clothes in Angel's mansion. Although going inside had brought back painful memories, Buffy had not wanted to try to explain to Joyce where she'd gotten all the new stuff. While she realized how badly keeping secrets from her mother had turned out last time, she was not ready to discuss this new turn of events. Or, at least not discuss it while standing on the doorstep.

She raised her hand to knock, but paused. She had fought the Master, Angelus, and countless other vampires and demons. Still, at this moment Buffy was positive that she had never been more scared, and of a door at that. _What if…_ Making a decision, Buffy knocked firmly on the door. She was tired of being worried and constantly questioning whether or not she had made the right choice. The only way to find out was to go ahead and do it.

Despite her determination, as the door began to open Buffy had to fight back an urge to flee. And then Joyce was standing there, looking pale and tired first, then shocked. 

"Buffy," she whispered.

Buffy opened her mouth, but could think of nothing to say. She gave her mother a tentative smile.

Joyce reached out and pulled Buffy into her arms, and they stood together in silence.

A bit later, she and her mother sat awkwardly in the living room. Buffy had already been taken on an impromptu tour of the house, despite her efforts to point out that yes, she did remember where the bathroom was. She had politely agreed that the new color scheme in the kitchen was fun but tasteful, and that the voodoo-looking mask in her mother's room was a delight to the eyes, although it actually freaked her out a bit. When they had gotten to her room Buffy had been very close to crying upon seeing that it was exactly the way she left it. That, more than anything else, proved to Buffy that her mother had wanted her to come back.

"Would you like anything to eat?" asked Joyce.

"No, thank you," said Buffy, feeling a lot like a guest. "Actually, I was thinking that I might go look for the gang. You know, start the groveling process with them, too."

Joyce looked out the window.

"It's getting pretty dark out there. Oh, but I guess you're used to that… right?"

Buffy forced a smile.

"Yeah, that's me… the night owl."

"Well, be careful. And… and you'll come back? When you're done, of course."

"Yes, mom, I will be coming back. And then you can feed me whatever you want," said Buffy standing up, marveling at how easily the word "mom" had come to her lips. Even though she had accepted that Narcissa was her mother, being with Joyce again made her realize how much she loved her. No matter what, Joyce was her mother. Although she was certainly interested in what Joyce would say about the adoption issue. Still, that was a matter for another day.

Once outside, Buffy decided to do a quick patrol as she headed towards Willow's house. There were at least two cemeteries and one dark alley she could check out along the way. Besides, focusing on finding vampires was easier than agonizing over how the gang would react to her return.

The first cemetery was beyond dead, and she stopped in the second for only a few minutes to wait for a fledgling to come out of his grave before scattering him on top of it. As she approached the alley, she heard the distinct sound of a scuffle and sped up.

Rounding the corner, Buffy found Xander, dressed head to toe in black, basically getting his ass kicked by a vampire. Without hesitation, Buffy ran up and kicked the vampire away. She then turned to help Xander up, as he had accidentally been knocked to the ground.

"Buffy," he said, looking up at her.

"That's me," she said, offering him her hand.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed.

She frowned, hoping that he'd get over his shock soon.

"We've been over this. Are you going to—"

She was abruptly cut off by the return of the vampire, who slammed into her, pushing her into the wall before turning his attention back to Xander.

At that moment Willow, Oz, and Cordelia rushed into the alley. 

"Xander!" screamed Cordelia, rushing over and trying to pull the vampire away from him. Instead, the vampire pushed her away, knocking her into Oz and Willow. 

Buffy got up from where she had fallen against the wall and pulled a stake out of her jacket. She calmly approached the vampire, who was still trying to subdue and Xander and get a hold of his neck.

"Excuse me," she called out.

The vampire ignored her. Shrugging her shoulders, Buffy plunged the stake into his back and the vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. Brushing the ash off of her outfit, she turned to face the rest of the gang.

"Buffy," said Willow in surprise.

Automatically, Buffy checked behind her, but finding only a dusty Xander, relaxed again.

"Hey, guys," she said. "Long time no see."

"You could say that," agreed Xander, moving around her to stand next to Cordy. The four of them standing across from her seemed to form a unified front, and Buffy could not determine how happy they were to see her.

"How long have you been back?" asked Willow.

"Just a few hours. I stopped at my house first, then came out here."

There was a moment of silence, and Buffy felt compelled to fill it.

"So, I see you guys are all big with the slaying."

"Well, someone had to do it," muttered Xander under his breath.

"Oh, we're getting really good at it," exclaimed Willow hurriedly.

Buffy nodded, choosing to ignore Xander's comment.

"I can see that."

"We would have killed that vampire without your help. Eventually," said Xander defensively.

She looked at him evenly.

"I know. I said that I could see you were good, not that you should bow down and kiss my feet for saving you."

Xander had the grace to look sheepish, but Buffy was already regretting her comment. She hadn't wanted to come here and alienate them further. Obviously, she had spent too much time with Draco.

She sighed.

"Anyway, I just wanted to see you guys and let you know I was back in town. I'm going to hit Giles' place next."

They nodded and the front finally gave way, letting her pass.

"Wait," called out Willow. "We'll come with you."

Buffy smiled, happy that at least one of her friends was making an effort.

A few days later, Buffy was feeling less comforted by that fact than before. The reunion at Giles' had gone fairly well, despite the general tension that remained. However, she had just been stood up by Willow, Xander continued to alternate between avoiding her and annoying her, and her mom's new friend Pat was creeping her in a major way. Not to mention the fact that she really missed her daily chats with Narcissa and hanging out with Draco. She had also discovered a dead cat, that later became a not quite so dead cat. Giles was currently researching what had turned the kitty into a zombie.

There were also events that were more positive, though. She was no longer wanted for murder, for one. And somehow Giles had managed to get her back into Sunnydale High. Not to mention that all of her friends were supposed to be coming over for dinner tonight. _Hopefully_, thought Buffy as she made her way home, _they'll all show up_.

A few hours later, Buffy was regretting her earlier thoughts, and trying desperately to remember if she had used the words "I wish" at any point. Her friends had shown up for the "dinner" that had become a full-on party. Lots of them. Apparently, she had about 50 or so more friends than she knew of. And the few she was aware of were not really high on her list of favorites right now. The only one missing was Giles, and he had been the most accepting of her return so far, and was therefore the one she wanted to talk to most.

Seeing Willow leaning against a nearby wall, Buffy took a deep breath and approached her, only to have a stilted conversation that was ended when Willow pointed to her ears, shrugged, and turned to face the band. 

Buffy tried talking to Xander next, but he was much more interested in exploring Cordelia's mouth than in conversation with her. Feeling worse by the minute, Buffy wandered around the party a bit more, stopping outside the kitchen in time to hear her mother telling Pat how strange it was having Buffy back in the house.

Holding back tears, Buffy rushed up the stairs to her room. She grabbed the bag she had filled with clothes and other things at an earlier visit to the mansion. 

"Where is it," she said, pulling out clothes and hunting through the bag until she found the mail box. She moved to her desk and pulled out a pen and paper.

_Dear Draco,_ she began, _things here are harder than I thought they would be. I know that I screwed up by running away, but I thought they'd at least give me a chance to explain. I don't know—_

"What are you doing?"

Buffy turned to face Willow, who took in Buffy's red-rimmed eyes, the half-packed bag, and the note writing.

"You're running away again?" she demanded, stepping into the room.

Suddenly, Buffy was angry.

"Like you care," she retorted, sticking the half-finished note in a drawer. "None of you want me here."

"That's not true," said Willow.

"Oh, really? Is that why you've all been ignoring me?"

"No! I mean, we're not… we have a right to be mad!"

"Yeah," sighed Buffy, standing up. 

"We needed you this summer," said Willow. "And you weren't here."

"You guys did fine without me. You've got that slaying thing down."

"No, we really don't," said Willow, "and I didn't mean we needed the Slayer. I meant we needed _you_. Buffy. Our friend."

Buffy watched her with a sad smile.

"I needed you," continued Willow. "I've been going through all kinds of things. I mean, I have a boyfriend now, and I've been doing magic, and I needed someone to talk to about all of this. I needed you!"

Joyce walked into the room.

"What's going on here?" she demanded. "Buffy, are you running away again?"

Buffy repressed the urge to scream, and pushed her way past her mother and Willow. She ran down the stairs and passed by Xander and Cordelia making out.

"Don't you dare leave, Buffy," yelled Joyce, following closely behind her.

"What, so I'm only allowed to leave when you _kick me out_?" Buffy yelled back at her. "You're the one who told me that if I left I shouldn't come back."

The band stopped playing and the room began to empty as people fled the awkward scene.

"I made a mistake!" exclaimed Joyce. "You just dumped all this Slayer stuff on me, and then expected me to let you… run off and do whatever it is you did. I didn't know what to do!"

"I didn't have a choice," said Buffy, "and I'm sorry, but saving the world was a touch higher on my to-do list than hashing out the finer details of Slayer life with my mom."

Xander suddenly stepped forwards.

"What about the rest of us? We didn't know if you were dead or not… you don't know what you put us through."

"You don't know what _I've_ been through!" retorted Buffy.

"Because you didn't tell us!" exclaimed Willow, holding hands with the newly arrived Oz.

"Taking off like you did was wrong, Buffy. I mean, Willow was in the hospital, not to mention Giles… did you even stop to think about them?"

Buffy glared at Xander.

"Fuck you!" she yelled. "I haven't thought about anything _but_ you guys for the last three months. I know leaving was wrong, and I'm sorry."

She began crying in earnest.

"Mom, I'm sorry that I never told you about being the Slayer, and about making you worry so much. And Willow, I'm sorry I wasn't here for your issues with boys and magic, and Xander… I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done to you to make you so damn mad at me. I'm sorry I abandoned my post, and that I wasn't there for any of you guys. I guess I'm a terrible friend."

Buffy wiped her face and tried to calm down.

"I'm sorry," she continued before anyone else could speak, "but you know what? You weren't there for me either. I was alone when I found Kendra dead and the police tried to arrest me. I was alone when my mom kicked me out of the house. And I was alone when I had to drive a sword through Angel, not Angelus, but Angel's heart to save the world."

Willow gasped in shock, while Xander shifted nervously.

"Buffy, the circumstances—" he began before she interrupted him.

"There are always circumstances," said Buffy, thinking about what Narcissa had said what now seemed like so long ago. "But that doesn't make you feel any less abandoned, and it didn't make me feel any less alone."

Joyce stepped forward.

"I think we all need to just sit down and talk like rational adults," she said.

There were general nods of agreement. Buffy gave her friends a small smile.

"A quiet night in," she said. "I think we've had enough excitement around here,"

With that, the large front window exploded inwards as a zombie pushed his way through.

"Or not," sighed Buffy, pulling out her ever handy stake.

She rushed up to the zombie and staked him. He looked at her, then shambled closer.

"So… not a vampire."

Several more began coming in through the window, and the Scooby gang fought back in earnest. Buffy found herself being pushed backwards and up the stairs as she fought against as many as she could. She, Joyce, and Willow ended up her mother's room, where they discovered Pat had been waiting until the fight ended.

"What's going on?" she cried out, rushing towards them. At that moment, a zombie broke through, grabbing her by the head and snapping her neck.

Buffy kicked the zombie, and he stumbled backwards, dropping Pat in the process. She kicked him again and got him far enough out to close the door. As she slammed the door shut, the creepy mask on the wall fell onto the floor, it's eyes glowing red.

As Buffy, Willow and Joyce continued trying to hold the door shut, none of them noticed the formerly dead Pat get up and move towards the mask. She picked it up and as she put in on it the eyes flared a brighter red and the mask became a part of her face.

Suddenly noticing this new turn of events, Willow shrieked. The others turned to see what had happened, and the loss of attention resulted in the zombies busting through the door again. Upon entering the room, the zombies dropped to their knees before Pat the zombie.

"This is not good," said Buffy.

Pat the zombie approached Willow and stared at her. A blinding flash of light came from her eyes and for a moment they were all paralyzed. For Buffy it was like being stupefied all over again, and she was very relieved when it wore off after a few seconds.

Buffy closed her eyes and rushed towards Pat the zombie, slamming into her and pushing them both out of the bedroom window. As they fought in the front yard, Buffy was frozen again, but for the most part managed to look away.

Realizing that the power stemmed from the eyes of the mask, Buffy grabbed a shovel she found on the ground, and flung it towards Pat the zombie. The blade sliced into the mask, and Pat, as well as the other zombies, fell lifelessly to the ground.

One by one the gang came out of the house, followed by Joyce and the recently arrived Giles.

Joyce ran forward and pulled Buffy close to her. Over her mother's shoulder Buffy saw that the Scoobies were smiling at her.

"Welcome home," said Xander. "It just hasn't been the same without you."

—_so ignore the first part of my letter. Things aren't perfect, but I'm well on my way to patching things up here. Good luck at school!_

Love, Buffy

P.S. Say 'hi' to Hermione for me!

AN again: What I think is most funny, is that after my mini-rant last chapter in which I said I wouldn't even try to write longer chapters, and that I was writing my own version of events and not Joss', I managed to crank out this near facsimile of DMP and at twice the length. (I took the basic plot, but wrote it how I imagine that a more adjusted Buffy, as in one that has had a decent summer, would react. In the original, she lets the gang get away with a lot more meanness. Plus I tossed in a few things that I wanted out of the way so I don't have to lean on any other episodes.) Oh, well… next part should be about Draco's good times in Hogwarts, so original stuff again! 

Many thanks to: **becks89, Darklight, Rosie W, ScruffyWes **and **Susan**. And for some reason (ff.net sucks!) I can't see about the last 7 or 8 reviews for this chapter, and nothing has been sent to my email. So if I should have thanked you and didn't, sorry. It sucks for me, too :(

Happy Birthday to **ScruffyWes**!

Sorry about the wait on this chapter~ as I said, ff.net is acting like a little bitch.

~Eris~ 


	12. Part 11

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Thanks for all the reviews, belated or otherwise!

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 11

Draco sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts' express, reading Buffy's latest missive. So far, according to the letter, nothing much had changed in Sunnydale, though Buffy was trying to find the best way to question Joyce about the adoption issue. Her friends were being friendly again, and there was nothing much going on slay-wise.

While Draco was glad to hear that his sister was settling back into her old life, he couldn't help but worry that if everything became perfect for her there, she would not ever want to return to England. He was also admittedly jealous of the way she raved about her friends. She had not wanted to talk about them over the summer, but now they were all reconciled it was "Willow this," and "Xander that." Having only just become friends with Buffy himself, Draco couldn't help be envious of the friends she was with now. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't too sure how many friends he would have this year.

As if on cue, the compartment door slid open, and Crabbe and Goyle peered inside. Upon seeing Draco, they both grinned and tried to come in. At the same time. Unfortunately, as both were rather large boys, they ended up stuck in the doorway, neither one able to squeeze by the other.

"Really now," drawled Draco, carefully putting Buffy's letter away, "I know you're happy to see me, but try a little patience every once in a while."

Crabbe sneered at Draco, and elbowed Goyle in the stomach, so that the other boy fell back and allowed Crabbe to come through.

"The only patient around here is going to be you," said Crabbe in a menacing tone.

Draco's brow went up in surprise.

"Why, Crabbe, that was almost witty," he exclaimed. "Not too smart though, telling me your plans."

As Crabbe lunged towards him, Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at him.

"Hold it," he commanded, "unless you'd like to spend the rest of the train ride as an orangutan."

Contemplating this for an instant, Draco added, "Not that anyone would notice a difference. Apart from a marked improvement in odor."

Crabbe stood still.

"Got your wand out, Goyle?" Crabbe asked.

"I… do… now," wheezed Goyle, clutching at his stomach. He tried to point his wand at Draco, but found that Crabbe was in the way.

"Er…"

"Oh, this is just too much," said Draco. "Rather than have your back, Goyle has your backside."

Crabbe glared at him.

"Still trying to be the high and mighty Slytherin king, eh, Malfoy? Everyone knows that your father is in Azkaban."

Draco nodded slowly.

"Well, yes… so is yours. Or have you forgotten?"

Crabbe narrowed his eyes.

"I remember. I also remember who put him there."

Crabbe began to back towards the door, bumping into Goyle and sending him crashing into the hallway. 

Draco snickered. 

"You might want to help your girlfriend up," said Draco.

"There's no one who will help you now, traitor," hissed Crabbe.

Draco rolled his eyes, and wondered if Crabbe had taken a class on how to throw rejoinders back at someone. 

"And no one," continued Crabbe, edging out the door, "to help that little wine throwing bitch."

Draco frowned, all semblance of humor gone.

"_Furnunculus_," he yelled, the spell hitting Crabbe squarely in the chest. As the boy stumbled out, grabbing at his erupting face, Draco slammed the door shut. A few moments later, the door opened again, and Draco found himself holding Hermione Granger at wand-point.

Dropping his wand to his side, Draco sighed and collapsed onto the seat.

"Here to take points off, I suppose?" he inquired tiredly, wondering how much she had seen or heard. Judging but the curious look on her face, Draco would bet on way too much.

"Er… no," replied Hermione. "I'm suppose to tell you about the prefect meeting."

"Right," said Draco, standing up. "Lead on, then."

The curious look intensified, and Hermione opened her mouth.

"Sometime today, mudblood," said Draco.

"Git," muttered Hermione, spinning around and leaving the compartment. Draco followed her, cursing himself all the way.

_Bloody, stupid, git_, thought Draco, mentally agreeing with Hermione. Yes, he had wanted to distract her from the situation at hand, but there were a million other ways to have done so, all infinitely better than the one he had chosen. After all, mused Draco, he was going to have more than enough problems this year without renewing his feud with the Golden Trio. Glancing at Hermione's set expression, Draco decided he was probably too late.

After the prefect meeting, which had been so dull that Draco found himself longing to be back confronting the goons again, Draco noticed Hermione follow Ron into a nearby compartment. Deciding that since Hermione had more than likely been eavesdropping on him earlier, it was only fair to return the favor. He moved to the wall next to the door and leaned against it casually.

"… meeting?" he heard Harry say.

"Absolutely dull," replied Ron. "Especially with Malfoy on his best behavior."

Hermione muttered something.

"Eh?"

Draco leaned in closer.

"I said, he was probably tired out from earlier."

There was a long silence.

"Hermione," inquired Ron in a very controlled voice, "care to explain that to us?"

"I was just about to," she said. "I found him in a fight with Crabbe earlier."

"Oh," said a very relieved Ron. "Well, that's good news. The slimy git'll finally be getting some of his own back."

"But why would he be fighting with fellow Slytherins?" asked Hermione. "There's something strange going on."

"Who knows how those pillocks think?"

"Still, it might be worth looking into, don't you think, Harry?"

"No. I don't bloody care what Malfoy does and with who," said Harry.

There was another silence.

"Er… right," said Ron finally. "Chocolate frog, anyone?"

Deciding that any conversation about him was done with for now, Draco moved away from the compartment. So, contemplated Draco, Weasley was as stupid as ever, Hermione was still trying out for the Know-it-all award, and Harry was well on his way to topping last year's performance of most broody arsehole. It was too bad that he was turning over a new leaf this year, thought Draco, as it would be very simple to divide the trio.

Shrugging mentally, Draco headed back towards his compartment. Upon entering he discovered that Blaise Zabini had made himself comfortable.

"Hope you don't mind," said Blaise, "but the other compartments were getting too full for my tastes."

Draco eyed him, but seeing no obvious malevolence, shrugged and sat down.

"Seems like all of a sudden everyone at Hogwarts is either pro Death Eater or anti Slytherin. Doesn't leave a lot of room for the rest of us," continued Blaise.

"Er… right," said Draco.

Immediately Blaise looked abashed.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "I just thought… I mean, if you're a Death Eater, or whatever, um… kudos."

Surprised, Draco laughed.

"Actually, no. I leave all the Dark Lord worship to my father."

Blaise grinned in relief.

"Same here. I'm all for father and son bonding, really I am. But father, son and the lord of evil? There's a _ménage-à-trois_ I could do without."

Draco nodded.

"I know what you mean. I've heard of fathers pushing their sons to be better Quiddich players, to get the opportunities that they never had, but to push your kid towards being a better baby-killer and kicker of puppies is a bit much."

As he and Blaise continued to talk, Draco realized that however different this year might be, it was not going to be quite as horrible as he had first imagined.

AN again: Aw… Draco made a new friend! Doesn't it just bring a tear to your eye? *cough*

Anyway, super special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last two chapters, and extra special thanks with a cherry on top to: **Anne**, **becks89, Botticelli's Venus, caribear, Darklight, Elizabeth V, jezowen, Kandice, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, Turn Off the Lights **and **Village-Mystic**.

And yay for **ScruffyWes**, who hasn't done much on this chapter except harass me into writing it. (Possibly the most important part).

And a shout out to ff.net, who not only finally started sending me my reviews, but also thought it would be a lark to send me about 50 emails of the same two reviews. Gee, you guys rock.

Finally, I'm going out of town for a few days, so I won't be updating before next Tuesday at the earliest. 

~Eris~ 


	13. Part 12

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Sorry about the delay in posting. Spring Break, yeah! As always, see below for thanks and rants.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 12

Draco stood by the entrance road to Hogsmeade, leaning against a tree and trying to look casual. Judging by the strange looks he was receiving from the students passing him on their way to the Three Broomsticks, he was failing. However, receiving strange looks from Hogwarts students was a commonplace event for Draco, who had become an object of speculation over the first few months of school.

Upon arriving at Hogwarts on the first day of school, Draco had made every effort to blend in and become just one more student. He had avoided the Golden Trio and more notorious members of the Slytherin house alike, spending most of his time either with Blaise or communicating with Buffy. Because of this incredibly un-Draco like behavior, the students had begun to talk. In trying to call as little attention to himself as possible, Draco had gained more.

Still, Draco didn't care too much about the gossip, just as long as he was left alone, today more than any other day. As he reflected upon this, he didn't notice the famous three until Ron was standing nearly directly in front of him. Because Draco had stopped picking fights, and tended to just ignore whatever people said to him, Ron had been getting braver about confronting him.

"Hiding again, Malfoy?" sneered Ron. 

"Of course," agreed Draco in a mock friendly tone. "I often hide by standing about in broad daylight by the most traveled road in town. Git."

Ron frowned and took a step closer to Draco.

"Ron," said Hermione warningly. "Let's go."

Ron gave Draco one last look that he probably thought was menacing but looked a bit more like indigestion, and began to move away.

"You're right, Hermione," said Ron. "He's not worth it."

Draco should have let them go. He knew this. He even thought, _good, they're leaving_. But one small part of him, most likely his pride, couldn't let it go like that.

"Actually," said Draco in an offhand manner, "my shoes are worth more than your entire family."

Ron immediately got into Draco's personal space again.

"At least I have a family," he hissed. 

"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

"What?"

She didn't reply, and when Ron turned he saw a rather dejected looking Harry.

"Oh, bugger… sorry Harry. But it's not like you're completely alone, I mean, you have… us. And Dumbledore. Uh…"

"Better quit while you're ahead," Draco advised him. "You're about as familiar with tact as a fat man is with the lower half of his body."

"Enough of the Queen D attitude, Coco," said a voice behind him. "I'm supposed to tell Narcissa whether or not you're being good, and I don't want to have to tell her that no, you're being your usually jerky self."

Completely forgetting about the people in front of him, Draco turned to Buffy with a grin.

"You're one to talk, Fifi. Maybe I should tell her about that little party you and Faith went to last week."

"Hey, I told you that in the strictest of confidence. Now let's go. I want to see this magic candy store you're so into."

They walked away, leaving the Trio to stare after them in confusion, having never seen Draco smile like that before.

"Queen D?" said Ron.

"Coco?" said Harry.

Hermione simply watched them go into Honeydukes with narrowed eyes. There was some mystery happening here, and she was going to solve it.

Later that day, Buffy and Draco sat at a table inside the Three Broomsticks. Buffy had several bags piled up next to her, and a butterbeer in front of her. She took a sip.

"Mmm. This really is good. Do they sell it in bottle form? Maybe I should take a few home with me."

"I think you've bought enough today," replied Draco.

Buffy looked sheepish.

"I know. But some of that candy was just so cool! Not to mention tasty. Plus, Narcissa gave me a bunch of money before I left."

"Well, we know who the favorite is."

"Yep," agreed Buffy cheerily. "And who could blame her?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but continued more seriously.

"How was she?"

"Good. I mean, we could really only meet for lunch, since I'm not allowed to see the top-secret hideout, but she seemed happy."

"Good."

Draco hesitated.

"How is your… other mother?"

"Makes it sound like some sort of lesbian thing," giggled Buffy. "'My two mothers.' And if you want to know if I've talked to Joyce about the adoption thing, the answer is 'yes.'"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What did she say, brat?"

Buffy hesitated.

"She's my mother," she said.

Draco frowned.

"But…"

"Yeah, I know. Narcissa is my mother. But… you should have seen her face when I asked about being adopted. She had no idea what I was talking about."

Buffy took another swig of butterbeer.

"She told me about my birth. Eight hours of labor at the Lincoln Medical Center. Showed me the birth certificate and everything. Not that I'd know if it was a fake or not."

Draco shifted his mug around.

"What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure. But I asked Giles about memory spells, since he's big with the Wicca mojo, and he said there are ways to alter someone's memories. So…"

"So you think that someone cast a spell on Joyce convincing her that she was your biological mother?"

Buffy grimaced.

"It sounds so 'conspiracy theory,' doesn't it? I have no idea why anyone would go to that much trouble, either."

Buffy sighed, and stared into her mug.

"It's all so weird and confusing," she said, shaking her head. "But enough about me. What have you been up to?"

"The usual things… go to class, study for class, avoid classmates…"

"Still?"

"Five years of being a bully is a lot to get over, I suppose. Not that I'm trying too hard."

"Well, what about this new friend of yours."

"Blaise? What is there to say? He's a sweet transvestite who enjoys long walks on the beach and laughs when puppies get kicked."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Don't be stupid. Is he cute?"

"How would I know?" exclaimed Draco. "I can't tell with guys."

"Idiot," huffed Buffy, finishing off her butterbeer.

Draco laughed.

"Speaking of new friends, how are things going with Faith?"

Buffy slammed the mug down on the table.

"…unless you'd rather not talk about it," continued Draco with a raised brow.

"Faith is… I don't know. I mean, it's good that she's there, because otherwise I couldn't be here, but…"

"Jealous?"

"God, yes."

Buffy sighed.

"She's cool, and I like her. I just wish that the rest of the gang didn't like her quite so much. I'm such a bitch."

"I've always thought so," agreed Draco, laughing as Buffy glared at him.

"Get me another beer," she commanded. 

"What's the magic word?"

"I'm buying."

Buffy pulled out some of the money Narcissa had given her.

"Here, you know how much you'll need."

While waiting for Draco to get back, Buffy noticed the three students from earlier sitting at a table. Although they were trying to be covert, she saw them glance at her table several times. Shifting slightly in her chair, Buffy began to listen to their conversation.

"… understand what such a pretty girl would be doing with Malfoy."

"He has money. That'll buy you anything."

"You really think she's a prostitute, Ron?"

"No, I'm just saying—"

"She might be a Veela. Maybe she's enchanted him."

"Enchanted him! She's the one in trouble here, not Malfoy. Maybe we should warn her that he's evil…" 

When Draco returned to the table, Buffy nodded in the direction of the Trio.

"Those guys that you were snarking at earlier. Are they who I think they are?"

"None other."

"Hmm… his head doesn't look so big to me."

Draco snickered.

" I guess I must have gotten it confused with his ego."

"Or his ego confused with your own," replied Buffy.

"Hey, now. No need to get personal."

After finishing off their drinks, Buffy gathered her bags and she and Draco left the pub. Pausing outside to orient herself, Buffy realized that they had left at the same time as the Trio. Hesitating a moment, she dropped her bags by Draco and approached them.

"Hi," she said.

The three stared at her in surprise.

"There's just a few things I need to get off my chest. First," she turned to Harry, "me and Draco dating? Ew."

She looked at Hermione next. "Second, I don't know what a veelo is, but me enchanting Draco? Ew."

"And third," she stared hard at Ron, her voice going from cheery to cold, "there's a big difference between being evil, and being an asshole."

Then she smiled again.

"It was super nice meeting you all," she said, going back over to Draco, who stood frowning at her.

"I don't need you to defend me," he said.

"I was defending myself more than you," she replied, picking up the bags. "Us dating? Ew. As far as that evil business goes, I was just stating a fact."

An eerie green glow filled the sky, and suddenly dozens of Death Eaters appeared in the square and began throwing curses at people.

"See," pointed out Buffy, dropping her bags once again and reaching for a weapon. "Those guys are _actually_ evil."

AN again: Oh, so that's what a cliffhanger looks like.

Okay, so, a lot of people talked about Blaise in their reviews. I really didn't think that having boy!Blaise would be such a big deal. Anyway, in a nicely defending review, ScruffyWes says:

****

Dear sweet fellow reviewers, I've noticed many comments on Blaise. It is never declared in the book whether or not it's a girl or a guy. Please refer to w.mugglenet.com to verify that. I personally checked online and found a couple websites for name meanings and origins. One said that Blaise was for a girl or a guy, and one said it was only a guy's name. Hope that clears things up.

Obviously, I agree :) I've read fictions with Blaise as a girl and as a boy, and I thought that was generally accepted. If anyone has incontrovertible proof that Blaise is a girl, like an actual quote from the book, possibly stating that Blaise adjusted her bra, please let me know. I won't change the character, but I am curious as to where all the adamancy and certainty came from.

Still, no review is a bad review, and I want to thank every who dropped me a line, even if it was to tell me I was wrong. (Okay, I'm over it now… maybe.) Special thanks to **Anne, Anne-Marie, beck89, ChancingFaith, Cousin Mary, Darklight, jezowen, Kandice, Lolly6, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, Susan, Tiger Tiger 2, Turn Off the Lights, **and** Village-Mystic**.You all make me so happy, I'm speechless. In other words, there are no words…

Thanks again to **ScruffyWes**, who pokes me until I write, defends me when I'm not around, and is a general Lexicon of all things Harry Potter. _Have I told you lately…?_

~Eris~


	14. Part 13

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Hope I didn't keep you guys on tenterhooks for too long.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 13

There was a battle raging, and Buffy had never felt more useless. Everyone but her had a wand out, and the air was filled with Latin phrases and flashes of light. It was the kitchen situation all over again, but this time without a handy wine bottle or the promise of a house elf to get her out of any binds.

Still, if she just sat back and let her brother and his classmates do all the defending, she'd never hear the end of it. Buffy surveyed the scene. Draco was holding his own against a couple of Death Eaters. Hermione and Ron were working back to back fairly successfully. Harry was running around, casting spells at anything in a cloak and bellowing for someone named Trixie to show herself.

Buffy frowned. That sort of behavior was likely to get him killed. And since he was supposed to be the great hope of the wizarding world, that was definitely not a good thing. 

__

Okay, thought Buffy, getting ready to run out there and back him up. _The plan is—_

She spun around and punched the approaching Death Eater in the face, then dropped down to kick his legs out. As he came crashing to ground, Buffy came to a realization. She was terrible at making plans. A quick search of the fallen Death Eater provided her with his wand, which she promptly snapped in half. Then she took off running towards the Boy-who-lived-to-get-in-trouble. 

A circle of Death Eaters currently surrounded him. Fortunately, every time he dodged a curse it hit someone behind him, and in this way the number was dwindling fairly rapidly. Still, there were more of them than there were of him, and Buffy could see he was getting tired. As it was, he barely had breath enough to yell the counter-curses.

Still running, she barreled into the first Death Eater she reached, knocking him to the ground. Seeing a flash of light out of the corner of her eye, she quickly grabbed the man by his robe and pulled him back up to use as a shield. As the light hit him, he stiffened and became very hard to hold up.

"Ugh," grunted Buffy, struggling to support the dead weight. "Haven't you wizards ever heard of Slim Fast?"

Changing tactics, she launched the body at the next Death Eater in the circle. 

"Think fast," she advised him. 

He didn't, instead stumbling onto the person next to him. Who fell onto the one next to him. This domino effect might have continued all the way around the circle, but unfortunately the next in line wised up and took a step back.

"Ruin my fun," pouted Buffy, jumping across and kicking the spoilsport in the chest. She then did a quick checking over of all the Death Eaters she had knocked down, taking and breaking wands, and making sure that any problems of consciousness were solved.

Straightening out, she saw that Harry had dispatched the last few and was staring at her with an odd expression on his face. 

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," she replied. "Next time…"

Buffy trailed off, looking towards a dark alley in the distance.

__

That's where I need to go, she thought.

"Next time what?" asked Harry, but she was already moving towards the alley.

As she hurried over, a blast of purple shot by her head, and she dropped to the ground.

__

What am I doing out here? She wondered.

__

The alley.

The alley?

Buffy shook her head. While she had a great deal of experience in dark alleys, they weren't exactly her number one vacation spot. As she stood up, she tried to see where Draco was.

__

He's in the alley.

Buffy blinked. Draco was most certainly not—

…_in the alley._

"You know what? Fine. I'll go in the freaking alley," huffed Buffy. She moved towards it cautiously, still on the look out for anymore stray curses. Fortunately, it seemed like the situation was under control, and that the Death Eaters had been beaten back. No one would mind if she went—

…_ into the alley. I need to go into the alley._

"Shut up," she yelled. "I'm here already."

"And it's wonderful to finally see you," replied a silky tone, as a cloaked man came out of the most shadowed region of the alley.

Buffy reached for a stake, but the man pulled out his wand and waved it at her warningly.

"Not quite fast enough," he admonished. "But don't worry… we can work on that."

Buffy dropped her hands to her sides in loosely clenched fists.

"So you 'tricked' me into this dark alley, and whipped out your wand. Other than the obvious pervy schemes, what do you want?"

"Is there anything, ah… 'pervy' about a father wanting to see his daughter?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. As wonderful as it had been spending time with Narcissa and Draco, she was a little bit tired of being approached and told that she was a relation of every nut on the street.

"Nice try, Darth Vader, but unless you're actually an escaped convict or a dead-beat womanizer under that cloak, you've got the wrong girl."

"I prefer to think that I'm a self-liberated revolutionary, actually," said the man, sliding the hood of his cloak back to reveal long blond hair and a cold, triumphant stare.

Buffy recognized him from the portrait. This was most definitely Lucius. Her father. A power-hungry, evil, cruel man, according to just about anybody who knew him. Buffy certainly didn't think he'd have any compunction about killing his only daughter. After all, he had tried before.

__

I'm in trouble, thought Buffy. _I need to keep him talking until Draco notices that his stupid sister wandered off. Something neutral…_

"Not big on using conditioner in Azkaban, were they?" she asked.

Lucius scowled at her and raised his wand.

"Insolent girl. If I had raised you, you'd have been taught some manners."

"No doubt," agreed Buffy, warily eyeing the wand. "Just out of curiosity, why do you want to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Lucius laughed. "I never wanted to kill you."

"What? Then why did you tell Narcissa that? Why did she have to sneak me out of the house?"

"Sneak you… out of the… house!"

Lucius continued to laugh unpleasantly.

"Oh, your mother's belief in her powers of concealment are truly priceless. Foolish girl, who do you think the house elf gave you to after leaving the house?"

Buffy took a step forward and glared at Lucius.

"I'm glad that you're having such a good time with this, but how about sharing a little information?"

"Fine. I orchestrated the entire thing. I told your mother I wanted you dead, knowing she would try to save you. I took you from the house elf right outside the front gates of the Manor, and handed you off to a trusted friend with orders to conceal you somewhere that no one could find you."

"But why?" yelled Buffy. "Why bother? From everything I've heard about you, if you'd wanted me out of the way, killing makes the most sense."

"That's true. If I wanted you out of the way permanently. Unfortunately, there is a prophecy—"

"No," interrupted Buffy.

"No?"

"I'm not interested in any prophecies. They never have anything good to say."

Lucius smirked.

"On the contrary. This one says that you and your brother will turn the tide of the war, and cause the Dark Lord to triumph."

__

Oh, crap, thought Buffy. She decided that she would rather have her father trying to kill her then have her join them. 

"When you and Draco join us, the forces of darkness will put out the sun forever!"

Buffy did not like the evangelistic look on her Lucius' face. He moved closer to her.

__

I can't believe that Draco hasn't come looking for me yet, she thought.

"I think it's time for me to be leaving now," said Buffy, trying to inch away. Unfortunately, Lucius still had his wand on her.

"You're not going anywhere," he said. "You will join us."

Buffy clutched at the necklace around her neck.

__

Come on, Draco. Hear me. Help me.

She looked around the alley for something to distract Lucius with, but could find nothing useful.

"Why split us up?" asked Buffy, desperately trying to keep Lucius talking, and away from her.

Lucius frowned.

"It's part of the prophecy," he said

"Care to elaborate?"

Lucius clearly enjoyed the sound of his own voice. He took on a very professorial tone.

"It's about balance. You and Draco are twins, and the balance of good and evil is not equal in you. Raising you together would have changed that."

Buffy had no idea what he was talking about.

"What do you m—"

"Buffy," cried Draco, running down the alley. Harry and his crew were close behind him.

Lucius narrowed his eyes.

"No one should have been able to find us," he said, looking accusingly at Buffy.

She shrugged, touching the bump the necklace made under her shirt.

"I can't say I'm unhappy with this turn of events," she said as Draco came up next to her.

"Father," he breathed, looking in shock at the man in front of him. Then he pulled his wand out.

"Leave," he commanded.

Lucius smirked.

"So forceful." 

He looked at Buffy.

"I'll be back," he said, before disapparating.

"Are you okay?" asked Draco, clearly battling between the urge to hug her and to yell at her for wandering off.

She nodded.

"I am kind of upset about one thing, though," she said, not noticing that Harry, Hermione and Ron had followed Draco into the alley. "You never told me that our father was so fond of clichéd one-liners."

There was a gasp from Hermione. Buffy turned to look at her.

"It true," she confided. "He was all 'join the dark side,' and 'I'll be back.' It's so trite."

The trio stared at her in without responding. Shrugging, Buffy turned to Draco.

"There's some, uh, new developments to discuss."

Harry stepped forward.

"Dumbledore. We all need to go talk to Dumbledore."

Draco glared at him.

"Make me," he said, stepping forwards.

Buffy grabbed his arm.

"I'll take care of this one," she said.

She looked at Harry questioningly.

"If Lucius is your father, and he's escaped from Azkaban, Dumbledore will need to know."

Buffy nodded.

"I can handle that. We'll meet you there in a bit."

"No," said Harry, pulling out his wand. "You'll come with us now."

Buffy narrowed her eyes and moved towards Harry.

"Make me." 

AN again: Shock! A prophecy…

A million and forty-seven thanks for all the reviews. I was overwhelmed by how much response my last chapter received. I was hoping to get to 300 so a little balloon would drop from the ceiling. You guys sent me a whole bunch! Helium ones, in funny shapes.

Special thanks to **Anne, Anne-Marie, becks89, Botticelli's Venus, ChancingFaith, Chelle86, Darklight, Dreamer22, jezowen, Kandice, Lolly6, MissKayl, nimacu, Prophetess of Hearts, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, Tiger Tiger 2, **and **Village-Mystic**. I'm too tired to think of anything clever to say, so I guess the best thanks is the fact that it takes me about half an hour just to compile a list of people who have been faithful reviewers. I do it all for you!

Equally sleepy thanks to **ScruffyWes**, who got to go to bed earlier than me. (But with the difference in time zones, it's actually later.) Before she left, she provided much needed information and compliments.

~Eris~ 


	15. Part 14

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Less wait, more words. You're welcome!

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 14

Buffy looked at the boy standing across from her. From everything she had heard about him, even from Draco's very slanted perspective, he was a good guy and a real hero. Still, if he didn't back off and get his wand out of her face immediately, she fully intended to show him how it felt to wear his ass as a hat.

"You know," she commented casually, "I'm really getting sick of people sticking their wands in my face. Makes me all restless and angry."

Harry did not waver.

"Remember the good old days," continued Buffy, "when you were surrounded by Death Eaters and I saved your cute little hiney? If only there was a way for you to thank me…"

Harry reddened, but stood firm.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I really think that we should all go to see Dumbledore together."

"And _I_ really think," said Draco, "that you should put that wand back where it belongs. Right up—"

Buffy quickly interrupted him.

"Let's leave the rest of that thought up to everyone's imagination," she suggested, "and get back to the problem at hand."

"What problem?" inquired Draco. "Give him the smack up, or the beat down, or whatever it is you do in your spare time."

"Hey! I do way more than just run around kicking ass, I'll have you know. Besides, that's a bit extreme. I kind of want to meet this Dumble guy anyway."

She returned her attention to Harry, who had been watching the proceedings warily.

"Okay, take me to your leader."

"What?" exclaimed Draco. "You're giving up?"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I'm accepting the means to get to the end."

"I never had you pegged for a coward."

"Coward!" screeched Buffy. "I'll show you 'coward.'"

Before anyone realized what had happened, Buffy plucked the wand out of Harry's hand. She automatically began to snap it in half.

"No!"

The cry came from everyone in the alley, and Buffy paused.

"Please don't destroy it," begged Harry. "It's linked to Voldemort, and might be the only chance I have of defeating him."

"Well," admonished Buffy, "if it's such a powerful weapon, you really shouldn't go waving it around at innocent people."

Ron snorted.

"Does the peanut gallery have a pertinent comment?" inquired Buffy.

"No daughter of Lucius Malfoy can be considered 'innocent,'" he stated.

Buffy glared at him.

"Hey, Mr. This-is-none-of-your-business, I don't go around judging you based on who your family is."

"Malfoy does," pointed out Hermione.

Buffy glanced at her brother.

"Yeah, Queen D does a lot of stuff that I don't. What does that have to do with me?"

Her question was met with silence.

"Gee, what a fun bunch of people," said Buffy. "I just adore snap conclusions built on a foundation of assumption and idiocy."

She sighed and shook her head.

"Look," she said to Harry, "if I give you back your wand, do you promise to keep it in your pants?"

Harry's agreement was drowned out by Draco's disapproval.

"Don't give it back, you daft cow," yelled Draco.

Buffy glared at him.

"What have I said about comparisons between me and any animal?"

"Keep it to the bedroom," suggested Harry, turning red when all eyes fell on him.

"Okay… moving along now. What am I suppose to do with this wand if I keep it," Buffy asked Draco.

"I don't know… use it?"

"Sure! Why don't I get a job in a feather factory, floating feathers around all day? Oh, right… because there's no such job as Chief Feather Floater."

"I have an idea," said Hermione, stepping forward before another spat could break out between Buffy and Draco. "Why don't you give the wand back to Harry, and we can all go talk to Dumbledore together."

By this point, no one could think of any good reason not to, so Buffy returned the wand to Harry, threatening to kick Draco in the shins if he didn't shut up about it.

"Anyone have the feeling that we all just wasted ten minutes of our lives," asked Buffy as the group hiked up the path towards Hogwarts. No one responded, and Buffy gave up on trying to diffuse the tense situation, focusing instead on the castle.

It was, she decided, big. And a castle. A big castle.

"Neat," she said.

Draco laughed.

"Confronted with one of the most impressive pieces of architecture in Scotland, and all you can say is 'neat?'"

"That's definitely milder than my first reaction to it," commented Harry from his position at the back of the group, where Buffy assumed he felt like he could keep an eye on the dastardly Malfoy twins.

"Yes," agreed Malfoy, "if I remember correctly, you fell out of the boat, didn't you?"

"No," replied Harry shortly.

"Oh, I remember it as if it was yesterday," continued Draco as they entered the castle. "You fell right out in shock. Fortunately, the big empty space in your head kept you buoyant long enough for Hagrid to fish you out with his beard."

Hermione made a strange laugh-turned-cough noise.

"It's not true," insisted Harry.

The group stopped in front of a large gargoyle.

"This is what you go through to see your principal? He must be about as appealing as mine," commented Buffy as the trio began trying different candy passwords.

When Ron finally hit upon 'sugar quills,' two things happened. First, the gargoyle slid apart, revealing a set of stone stairs. Second, Buffy let loose with a string of curses to do a sailor proud.

"Finally impressed?" inquired Draco.

"What? No," she replied. "Sugar quills. I just realized I left all my bags outside the Three Broomsticks." 

Finding very little sympathy, Buffy followed Draco and the trio up the stairs.

"So where's this great and powerful Oz?" she inquired, looking around the strangely decorated office. Crystals, pretty. Bird, cute. Skull, ick.

"Certainly not behind the curtain," said a voice from the corner.

A very old man with a hoary beard and questionable taste in robes stepped over to the desk. As he sat down, he eyed the group of teens.

"I presume this is about the attack on Hogsmeade."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. In part, at least," said Harry, nominating himself designated spokesman for the group. "We thought you should know… Lucius Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Are you sure?"

Buffy stepped forward.

"Very. He and I had a close encounter of the creepy and cliched kind."

The headmaster looked at her for a minute.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe you're a student of mine, are you? I was sure I knew everyone who attended."

"Uh, no, I'm not. I'm actually Draco's sister."

At Dumbledore's blank look, she continued.

"Twin. Uh… twin sister. Long-lost."

"Very strange," said Dumbledore. "Narcissa never said anything about this to me."

"Yeah, well, we were trying to keep a low profile because we thought the Death Eaters were trying to kill us. But, I guess we don't have to worry about that anymore."

Draco glared at Buffy, clearly meaning for her to shut up. She ignored him.

"Do you know anything about a prophecy?" she asked.

Harry whirled towards her.

"What prophecy?" he demanded.

"Whoa, down boy," exclaimed Buffy. "It's really none of your business."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Anything having to do with Voldemort _is_ my business," he said in a low, serious voice.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, try that line again in a couple of years. Once you're passed puberty and all, it might be intimidating."

She turned back to Dumbledore.

"Anyway, as I was saying before center-of-attention guy tried to make it all about him, Lucius told me that there's a prophecy stating that Draco and I—"

"Buffy," said Draco. "I really think we can solve this on our own."

"How would you know?" she asked. "You don't even know what happened."

"Well, I'd rather like to hear it first. It does involve me."

"Tone down the 'me' vibes, Co. I swear, with all the egos in this room, it's a wonder anyone else can fit."

The expression on Draco's face was decidedly close to a pout, and Buffy was hard pressed not to start laughing.

"The prophecy?" prompted Dumbledore gently.

"Oh, right. He said something about Draco and I turning the tide of the war, and putting out the sun. There was also some nonsense about the balance of good and evil in us."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair for a minute, thinking. Finally, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I don't know this prophecy."

"Damn," said Buffy. "I was afraid it would come to this."

"Come to what?" asked Dumbledore.

Buffy looked startled.

"Oh, uh… nothing."

The headmaster sighed.

"Miss Malfoy, if you have any information about Voldemort…"

"No! Well, not at the moment. I just… I know a guy who's a total wiz at prophecies. Uh… not an actual wiz, like wizard. More like… expert."

"Buffy," warned Draco, "I really don't think these people need to be privy to this particular piece of information."

She looked at him tiredly.

"I think they do. Keeping secrets is just way too hard. Besides, Intenso-boy has already seen me fight, plus according to you this girl is some sort of genius."

Hermione blinked in surprise and Draco fought back a blush.

"I think they've figured out that something is up," continued Buffy.

"Fine," said Draco, crossing his arms. "It's not like you ever listen to anything I say."

"Very true," agreed Buffy. "Anyway, the guy I'm talking about is my Watcher."

She paused, and saw a glimmer of understanding in Dumbledore's eyes. She also noticed Hermione start slightly.

"Looks like we have a winner," said Buffy, looking at Hermione. "Care to explain to the rest of the class?"

Hermione hesitated a moment, but couldn't overcome her natural desire to impart knowledge.

"A Watcher is the person who trains and guides the Slayer. But both are just a myth."

Buffy shrugged.

"Let's pretend they're not. Go ahead and explain the Slayer thing to them too. I hate having to do that."

As Hermione began to launch into a fairly accurate recitation of what a Slayer was and what she did, Buffy let her mind wander. While she was worried about bringing her two worlds together, she was not going to risk the safety of either one simply because she didn't want to deal with the headaches and guilt involved. Hopefully, with a lot of careful maneuvering, she'd still be able to keep the most delicate information from being divulged.

"One of the most appalling aspects of the legend of the Slayer," spouted Hermione, regaining Buffy's attention, "is the fact that they don't have very long l—"

"Legs," interrupted Buffy quickly.

Every turned their attention back to her. 

"We don't have very long legs," she reiterated with a warning look at Hermione, "which is weird what with all the, uh… kicking I have to do. I mean, you've seen how short I am. A longer reach would come in handy, but… uh, who can interpret why the powers do what they do…"

She trailed off. Draco looked suspicious, but seemed unable to decide exactly what he had missed. Hermione was looking much too sympathetic for Buffy's tastes. Harry was still watching her every move like a hawk, as if he was afraid she would run off and join, or possibly defeat, Voldemort without him. As for Ron, he was looking blankly out the window.

"Anyway," said Buffy, "now you know who I am, whether you believe it or not is not my problem. The next plan of action is to go tell my other friends what this war is all about."

"The wizarding world must be kept a secret from muggles," pointed out Hermione.

"Good to know," replied Buffy. "But I doubt you'd be able to find a less muggle-like band of people. Besides, to quote from Sir Stares-a-lot over there, anything involving me involves my Scoobies, too."

AN again: So we're almost back to Sunnydale again. I wish that I got airline miles for all the traveling I make these characters do!

And I would share the miles, like my thanks, with all of my wonderful reviewers! We could take a trip to Scotland, and storm around demanding to be taken to Hogwarts, or at the very least, Doune. First class seats to **Anne, Anne-Marie, becks89, captuniv, caribear, ChancingFaith, Chelle86, Chrios, Cousin Mary, Darklight, Dreamer22, ElizabethV, Hinomi, Jess S1, jezowen, Kandice, Lolly6, MissKayl, nimacu, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, ShawThang, Tiger Tiger 2, Tituba, **and **Village-Mystic.** Free champagne and hot nuts all around!

And **ScruffyWes**, my online resource and cheerleader, gets to join the mile high club. Hmm… anyone else feel like I've taken this particular analogy too far?

~Eris~


	16. Part 15

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: Really sorry about the wait, guys.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 15

Buffy frowned as she followed Draco down a twisty set of stairs and into the depths of Hogwarts.

"I can't believe they make you guys live in a dungeon," she said.

Draco shrugged and stopped outside of a section of wall exactly like the rest.

"It's not so much making us as allowing us. We Slytherins are a surreptitious bunch."

"Yeah, but can't you be sneaky and secretive in a less damp environment? It's wreaking havoc on my hair."

"You'll live. _Conium_ _maculatum._"

"Excuse me?"

"Hemlock," explained Draco.

Buffy looked at him blankly.

"Poisonous plant?"

"Uh huh…"

"It's the password," he explained, rolling his eyes.

Buffy saw that the wall had slid open.

"Oh, okay."

She followed him in to the empty common room, wrinkling her nose at the décor.

"Wow. I like green and silver as much as the next obsessive decorator, but aren't you guys going a little overboard on the school spirit?"

"All the common rooms are supposed to be like that," explained Draco absently, looking around to make sure the room was as deserted as it appeared.

"Good," said Draco. "It looks like everyone is still out enjoying the free weekend."

"And this is good because you're ashamed to let your fellow Slytherins meet your mostly muggle sister?"

"Don't be stupid," replied Draco.

Buffy glared at him.

"Don't be a jerk," she rebutted.

"You know exactly why it's better for the Slytherins to not know you're here," he said angrily.

"I know! I was kidding."

"Then why are you mad at me?"

"You called me stupid," she explained huffily.

"You are stupid," Draco muttered.

"Lover's tiff?" inquired a voice from the door of the boys' dormitory.

Buffy and Draco both quickly turned to face the source. Draco relaxed.

"Blaise," he said in greeting and explanation.

The dark-haired boy descended the staircase.

"Blaise Zabini, to be precise," he said, shaking hands with Buffy. "And who might you be?"

"Buffy," she replied.

"Delighted to meet you."

He turned to Draco.

"So this is why you didn't want me to go to Hogsmeade with you. You're a lucky man, Draco."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. She wasn't sure why everyone who saw her and Draco together assumed that they were _together_, but it had to stop.

"Buffy Malfoy," she said. "By the way."

Blaise frowned in confusion.

"Malfoy?"

"Yeah. I'm Draco's sister. So stop with the congratulations."

Blaise grinned.

"I can't say I'm upset by this turn of events. Though Draco never mentioned a sister."

"Yeah, it's because he's ash—"

"Enough, Elizabeth," said Draco. "That one's getting old."

"Elizabeth?"

Blaise looked from one Malfoy to the other in confusion. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"It's not my name. It just means that Queen D's panties are in a bunch."

Blaise coughed.

"It's lovely to have you here," said Draco acidly. "You really must visit more."

He stalked into the dormitory.

"It takes a certain kind of guy to leave the room in a huff," mused Buffy.

Blaise snorted.

"Three or so months of snide comments from the Slytherins and yet I've never seen Draco get that mad that fast."

"It's a gift," said Buffy. "And it's good for him to get taken down a peg every now and then."

They stood for a moment in silence. Buffy shifted impatiently.

"How long does it take a guy to pack?" she asked.

"Pardon me?" said Blaise in surprise.

"Draco. He's putting together some stuff and I just wondered how long he'd be."

Blaise shrugged.

"I really don't know. But he takes a while to get ready in a morning."

"The boy does love to primp," agreed Buffy.

She turned to the dormitory.

"Hey, Coco," she yelled. "I'm going exploring."

There was a muffled reply.

"What did he say?" Buffy asked Blaise.

"Either 'be back by four," or something questionable about your mother."

"I'll go with bachelor number one. It was nice meeting you," she said, pushing open the painting and stepping out into the corridor.

She looked left. She looked right. She looked left again. The hallway stretched out anonymously in both directions. Buffy tried to remember which direction she and Draco had come from, but all she could recall was complaining about hair-frizz. Shrugging mentally, she turned left and began walking.

Ten minutes later, Buffy was repressing the strong desire to smack herself.

"I'm going to go exploring," she mocked herself. "A magical castle. Alone. Great plan, Buffy."

She had been searching for the stairs the first five minutes, and the common room the last. Unfortunately, although she'd turned around and walked back to where the entrance should have been, it was no longer there. Or at least, it wasn't responding to Buffy butchering of the password. 

Uncertain that she was in the right place, Buffy continued to walk down the seemingly endless corridor. She paused every now and then to push against the wall.

"'Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered…' stupid wall… 'I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin…' oh, ick, something gooey… 'City to take back the child that you have stolen, blah, blah, blah…'"

"What do you think you're doing, idiot child?" sneered a cold voice.

Buffy jumped in surprise, having been too distracted by her plight to notice anyone approach. She turned and automatically dropped into a defensive crouch upon seeing a very pale, very creepy man glaring at her.

"You have no power over me," she finished inanely.

The man looked at her even more condescendingly.

"I beg to differ," he said coldly. "Ten points from…"

He looked more closely at her robes.

"You're not in uniform."

All of a sudden, Buffy realized two things. One, this was a Hogwarts professor, not a vampire. And two, she really didn't want to have to explain who she was again today.

"Uh… Hogsmeade weekend," she said.

"Well, what house are you in?" he demanded impatiently.

Buffy blinked.

"Hufflepuff, no doubt," said the teacher.

"Yes," agreed Buffy, sending out a silent apology to whoever would pay for her deceit.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff for loitering in a forbidden area, and another five for being out of uniform."

Buffy didn't know if this was fair or not, but didn't particularly care.

"Stairs?" she inquired, trying to keep the American out of her voice.

"This way," said the teacher, turning and striding down the hallway, his long black robe billowing behind him.

Buffy fought back the urge to pick up the train and play bridesmaid to his bride, instead following him meekly to the stairs. They had apparently only been a few feet further down, but Buffy had the feeling that their discovery had more to do with the seeker than the location.

"Thanks," she muttered, and bolted up the stairs, making a mental note to explain all this to Dumbledore before she left.

She emerged from the stairway into a much brighter, less damp hallway. She was also pretty certain that they had passed the suit of armor on their way into the castle. 

"Piece of cake," said Buffy, trying to convince herself she could handle the exploration now.

She began walking towards what she assumed was the front door. Something landed on her head and slid off.

She spun around, and saw a squished piece of chocolate cake on the ground. Running a quick hand through her hair revealed that it had been iced.

"Not funny," she hissed, looking up.

A man was floating around the ceiling, chortling. He was completely white and a little bit see-through.

"Ghosts," said Buffy. "Of course. Why not?"

The ghost suddenly seemed to realize that she was staring at him, as oppose to running for cover. He produced a large pie out of thin air and began streaming towards her.

"Crap," said Buffy, spinning around and taking off down the hallway. She took as many turns as she could, realizing that the ghost could float through walls but hoping that the pie was more corporeal. The cake certainly had been.

Finally feeling that she was at a safe enough distance, Buffy stopped to catch her breath and gain whatever bearings she could.

"More hallways," she sighed. "I'm really starting to hate this place."

She heard shuffling footsteps coming towards her.

"What fresh hell is this?" she muttered, torn between continuing to flee and the possibility of finding someone who could help her. A dirty-looking old man came round the corner, apparently led by an equally unkempt looking cat.

"Found another student out of place, my sweet?" crooned the man. "Filch'll take care of them. Dirty children, mucking up my nice clean floors."

Buffy decided that this must be the stereotypical creepy old janitor that every school seemed to hire, and that she'd rather not have a run in with him. Quietly, she slipped down a side corridor, stopping when she came to a flight of stairs going up.

Although by this point Buffy had decided that there was nothing in Hogwarts for her but trouble and that she wanted to simply return to the Slytherin common room and collect Draco, she also had the feeling that in order to go back down she'd first have to go up. 

She began climbing the stairs. The stairs began to move.

"That's it!" she yelled. "Quit jerking me around."

She ran up the stairs, intending to use her momentum to vault over the widening chasm and land on the floor the stairs had originally led to. Unfortunately, she hadn't taken into account the possibility of students appearing and getting in her way.

Changing her trajectory slightly in mid-leap led to her landing in a painful and undignified heap.

"Bloody hell!"

"Ron, don't swear."

_Just my luck_, though Buffy, rolling over to look up at the trio peering in concern at her.

"Little help?" she inquired, holding out her hand.

Harry grasped it firmly and pulled her to her feet.

"I think you should go to the infirmary," said Hermione, fussing over Buffy's newly torn robes and generally disheveled appearance.

"I'm fine," said Buffy.

"And there's, um… something in your hair."

"Oh, that'd be the icing," said Buffy.

The three teens stared at her.

"I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I'm covered in cake that I didn't get to eat. Anyone know how to get to the Slytherin common room?"

"Er… we all do," said Harry, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

"Super," said Buffy, not understanding or caring why this was a big deal. "Lead on."

At her request, they left her alone in front of the secret door. She glared at the wall.

"You saw me go in there an hour ago," she said. "Coney something."

The wall did not move.

"It's like hemlock, but not."

Nothing happened.

Buffy glared at the wall.

"You'll open or I'll make you open."

She backed up and took a run at it. As she was about to slam into it, it slid open and she landed on a very surprised Blaise instead.

"Wow," said Blaise, looking up at her. "Well, I'm glad we were introduced earlier."

She looked at him in confusion.

"Otherwise this would be awkward," he explained.

Buffy laughed and got off of him, then helped him stand up.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I was having words with the wall."

Blaise laughed. 

"I've never known words to be quite so physical before."

"Well, you've never met me before," she said. "Anyway, you were going somewhere, so I'll get out of your way."

"Actually, I was going to go find you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Apparently, Draco didn't say 'be back at four,' he said 'Blaise, go with her.'"

"Oops!"

"Oops is right," said Draco, coming out of the dormitory with a small trunk. "We could've been gone hours ago."

"Whatever. We can't leave until everyone else is ready anyway." 

"Where are you guys going?" asked Blaise.

Draco hesitated.

"Never mind. I'll see you when you get back," he said, leaving the room.

Draco winced.

"He was none too happy about the fact that I'd never told him about you."

"Keeping secrets from friends is hard," said Buffy. "I'm kind of glad that all of this is finally coming to a head for me."

Draco nodded.

"Well, if they don't accept you in Sunnydale, you can always come to Hogwarts."

Buffy shook her head.

"I don't think so. Me and this castle do not get along."

Draco took a look at her and frowned.

"Why are your robes torn?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"And what's in your hair?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"It looks like icing."

"Get off!"

"Hmm… tastes like icing, too."

AN again: I know, it's filler. Actually, I've been considering it an interlude, and wrote it more for myself than anyone. Once I realized that I was procrastinating on this story like it was homework, I knew I needed a break from the plot. Anyway, hope you liked! (I want to get the next part out in a couple of days. I can't promise I'll try, but I'll try to try.)

Also, the lines that Buffy quotes are from the movie Labyrinth (which belongs to Jim Henson, not me). Don't feel bad if you don't get the connection. But I'm not going to explain it, either :)

Hugs to all my reviewers. Inappropriate kisses to the faithful few: **Anne, Anne-Marie, becks89, captuniv, caribear, ChancingFaith, Chaotic Reign **(who was also meant to have a first class ticket last time~ sorry!), **Chelle86, Chrios, Cow as White as Milk, Cristina, Dreamer22, ElizabethV, Hestia, Hinomi, jezowen, Kandice, Lolly6, MissKayl, nimacu, Nina, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, ShawThang, Tituba, Village-Mystic, **and **Watcher Tale Neith. **

Thanks, as always to **ScruffyWes**, the only creative consultant I've ever had to write me a poem. Best review ever! She was also her kick-ass usual self, pointing out the ways to make this story more textually accurate and therefore better.

~Eris~ 

  



	17. Part 16

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: I swear, I meant to have this up yesterday. But it wasn't written then…

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 16

Buffy and Draco stood at the front of the school, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. The trio stood at a distance, covertly watching them and discussing, as quietly as possible, the events that had led up to this moment. Unfortunately for them, they either didn't believe that Buffy was really a Slayer or didn't realize that being a Slayer gave her enhanced hearing, as she could hear most of what was being said quite clearly. 

They began by slandering her brother's character, which she managed to put up with without hurling a rock at them. As for their assessment of Lucius, she agreed completely. They then moved on to her, Buffy, Slayer, comma, the.

"What are you grinning about?" asked Draco.

"Your buddies are talking about me," she replied.

"Anything good?"

"Well, I apparently have a 'nice arse.'" 

Draco frowned.

"Which one said that?" he demanded in protective brother mode.

"Hermione."

"What?"

"Kidding!" said Buffy laughingly. "It was Ron. However, despite the admiration he has for my butt, I'm still on the 'Possibly Evil' list and therefore undesirable."

"Git," said Draco, rolling his eyes.

"Him or me?" she asked. "Never mind. I'd prefer not to know."

Draco wanted to know more about what the trio were saying, but before Buffy could say anything Dumbledore came out of Hogwarts.

"Your attention please, everyone," he said, standing at the foot of the steps. The five teens took a minute to gather around him, shifting around so as not to stand by a certain person and staring at each other while pretending not to.

"Before I send you off to speak with Miss Malfoy's Watcher, a few words. Ah, but I should wait for the chaperone to arrive."

"Chaperone?" said Buffy.

"But Professor," said Hermione, frowning, "I thought you were coming with us."

"I would be delighted to," he replied, "but I'm afraid I have duties here, as Headmaster. Especially now that the safety of Hogsmeade has been compromised."

"No big," said Buffy. "I can make sure everyone gets back safe and sound."

"Be that as it may, I would prefer to have one of the professors go along. It's a bit much to let four of my students go to the Hellmouth with only the word of a virtual stranger as their protection."

"Hellmouth?" asked Draco, looking at Buffy.

"Uh…"

"We're going to the Hellmouth," gasped Hermione. "But, isn't that terribly dangerous?"

"Dangerous?" demanded Draco, glaring at his sister.

"Well…" she trailed off, looking helplessly at Dumbledore. "I really wish you hadn't told him that."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Still keeping secrets, I see," he said.

Buffy sighed.

"I didn't want you and Narcissa to worry more than you had to."

Backing away from the impending explosion, Ron turned to Hermione.

"Feel like catching the rest of us up?"

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "What's a Hellmouth?"

Hermione shrugged.

"It is what is sounds like. The mouth of hell."

"It's a center of mystical energy, a doorway between this reality and the next," explained Dumbledore further.

"Yeah, it's kind of like a crack house for vampires and other assorted bad guys," threw in Buffy, coming to join them. Rather than explode, Draco had shut her out, refusing to talk to her. _I'll work on him later_, she thought to herself.

"Crack house?" asked Harry.

"Uh huh. They come to get a fix of sweet, sweet evil, stay to kill the Slayer or end the world. The usual stuff."

The trio stared at her, and even Dumbledore seemed taken aback by her nonchalance.

"Yes, well… that is why I feel it is necessary to have someone go with you. I trust him to take care of you."

Hermione noticed that Dumbledore had that particular look in his eyes. The one that said, _I know something that will upset you and amuse me_. 

"Who is going with us?"

"Professor Snape," supplied the Headmaster with a twinkle in his eye.

"Snape!" exclaimed Harry. "He'll feed me to hell himself."

"Oh, it's not actually a mouth," said Buffy. "And it's pretty much closed. Although one time this tentacled thing came out…"

Buffy trailed off, realizing that her audience was not reassured.

"Anyway, who's this Snape guy?"

"He's a horrible git," exclaimed Ron, forgetting to shun Buffy in his eagerness to badmouth the professor. "He's greasy and evil."

Buffy started.

"Um… does he happen to have a love for stereotypical vamp-wear? You know, dark and billowy?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Uh, Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore turned to look at her.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you. While I was exploring the—"

"Ah, Professor Snape, you made it," interrupted Dumbledore upon seeing Snape come out of the castle.

"Yes. But I sincerely hope these _children_ have nothing to do with the task you have for me," sneered Snape, looking over the group with contempt. As his gaze fell on Buffy, his look became even more derisive, if possible.

"Still out of uniform, I see. Another ten points from Hufflepuff."

"Hmm? Hufflepuff, you say?" asked Dumbledore, staring at Snape over his half-moon glasses. "There are no Hufflepuff here."

"But this girl…"

"I can explain, honestly," interrupted Buffy quickly. "I was just about to tell the professor, anyway."

Dumbledore looked at her expectantly.

"Well," she began, "I kind of got lost in the nether regions of the castle, and when the creep-meist—er, Professor Snape found me I thought that explanations would take too long. He assumed I was in Huff-puff and I didn't correct him."

Dumbledore nodded.

"The lost points can be rectified. And I hope that you don't mind explaining a few things to the professor now."

Buffy nodded and began with the long-lost sibling story, switched quickly into the Death Eater attack and ended with the Slayer legend. Snape was visibly surprised by the first revelation, finally noticing that Draco was sulking in the background. For the rest he remained impassive, and once over he turned to Dumbledore.

"What has any of this… nonsense to do with me?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"I need you to escort Miss Malfoy, her brother, and the others to her Watcher's house," he said, pulling out an old tan glove.

"This portkey will take you to Los Angeles in about five minutes," continued Dumbledore, overriding Snape's protests. "From there, I believe Miss Malfoy will know how best to get you to Sunnydale. Unfortunately, even my powers cannot combat the forces of the Hellmouth."

Buffy looked at the tattered glove with disgust.

"That's a portkey? The one Narcissa gave me was much nicer." 

She glanced at Draco, who still refused to make eye contact with her.

"You coming, Coco, or do you plan on staying here and sulking?"

Without responding, Draco picked up his trunk and came to join the circle.

Dumbledore handed the glove to a still cranky Snape and backed up.

"All Hogwarts students must be back before class on Monday," he announced, as if to an entire congregation of people.

The group of teens each placed a finger on the glove. Nothing happened for a while, and there was much uncomfortable shifting. At one point Ron's finger nearly touched Draco's, and they both had to restrain themselves from letting go of the glove. Finally, Buffy felt a strange tugging sensation. She suddenly found herself lying somewhere near the bottom of a heap of people.

"Remind me to never portkey with so many people again," groaned Harry, rolling off the top of the pile.

"Or on a full stomach," added Ron, getting up next.

Hermione, realizing that she had been crushing Draco, quickly got up with a blush. Draco was next, and no less flushed. This left Buffy lying awkwardly on top of Snape.

_Second time I've fallen on top of a guy in how many hours?_ wondered Buffy. 

"Oh, sorry," she said as she accidentally elbowed him in the spleen while clambering off. 

Snape grunted and remained on the ground for a few moments, contemplating how best to get back at Dumbledore for making him do this. Permanent hair-dye for his beard, perhaps… a shocking violet… with a bow.

Buffy led the gang to the bus station, ignoring the looks they were getting from the residents of the area. A train of teenagers and one older man walking down the street in robes was certainly a strange sight. Fortunately, Los Angelenos were adept at minding their own business.

Once at the bus station, they all bought tickets with money that Dumbledore had given to Snape, except Buffy who traded in her original return ticket for an earlier one. They boarded a fairly empty bus, and soon found themselves en route to Sunnydale.

The bus ride was normally only about an hour, but after ten minutes of sitting next to a still angry Draco, Buffy felt like she'd been on there forever. Her attempt to talk to Snape was severely rebuffed, so she moved to an empty seat in front of the trio.

"What do you want," glared Ron, looking decidedly pale.

"I'm bored. Thought maybe we could chat," said Buffy. "Are you okay?"

The bus lurched as it hit a pothole. Ron looked even more unwell.

"Why would muggles choose to travel like this?" he moaned.

"It was probably the portkeying that did it," said Buffy contemplatively. "That even makes me feel nauseous, and I deal with nasty goop on a daily basis."

Hermione helped Ron to stand.

"Cone on, I think there's a loo at the back of the bus."

Once they were gone Harry looked uncomfortably at Buffy.

"So," he said.

"So?"

"What do you want?" he said abrubtly.

"Your soul. Kidding," she added quickly at his angry look. "Ever thought about getting a sense of humor?"

Harry glared at her.

"Try watching the person you care most about in the world die, knowing it's your fault, and see how funny _you_ feel."

Buffy froze. _He knew?_ But that didn't make sense. She tried to remember what Draco had told her about Harry, but it mostly focused around his hatred of him and wasn't very helpful.

"I'll remember that," she said as she stood, struggling to keep her tone even. Something in her face or voice must have tipped Harry off though, because he was suddenly apologetic.

"Sorry," he said. "I… I didn't mean to…"

"Assume that you're the only one with issues? It's cool," said Buffy sitting down again.

Harry seemed like he might take affront to her words, but deflated.

"Who did you lose?" asked Buffy more kindly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm surprised you don't already know," muttered Harry bitterly.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Drop the "me" vibe for a second. I know something that'll cheer you up."

"What?" asked Harry apprehensively.

"Every second that you talk to me, Draco is getting more and more angry."

Harry smiled slightly.

"I thought he was turning over a new leaf."

"Doesn't mean you guys have to be friends. Besides, I wouldn't say he was a leaf, exactly. More like a jerky bud that has bloomed into a flower of—"

"Shut the hell up, brat!" yelled Draco from the front of the bus, must to the displeasure of the stern, spinster-looking woman sitting across from him.

Buffy giggled.

"I thought he could hear us," she said.

She and Harry turned to watch the woman give Draco a lecture in manners. His reply was less than polite, and the woman got up and changed seats.

Harry couldn't help it. He started laughing, while realizing somewhere deep inside that he hadn't laughed all summer.

"Friends?" asked Buffy hopefully.

"I suppose so. But we really need to have a better foundation than the desire to irritate your brother."

"Well, we could bond over our angst ridden lives," supplied Buffy, "but that's boring. And depressing."

They sat for a moment.

"Oh, I know! Let's play Favorites," said Buffy.

"What's that?"

"I say a category, and you say what your favorite is, and vice versa. Got it?"

"Yeah," agreed Harry.

"Okay, color."

"Red."

"Really? How boring."

"Are you going to mock all my answers?"

"Probably."

The rest of the bus-ride flew by quickly, especially as Hermione and Ron eventually joined in, while Snape continued to plot against Dumbledore and Draco continued to sulk.

Finally, they arrived in Sunnydale, and Buffy led her motley crew to Giles' house. She knocked firmly and waited.

"Buffy! What are you doing back?" asked her Watcher upon opening the door.

"I have a little problem. Is it cool if me and my friends come in?" she asked, breezing through the door. "Oh, and you might want to get some extra chairs out."

Giles stared at Buffy in bemusement for a moment, before turning his attention to the group of oddly dressed strangers his Slayer had brought him.

"Oh, dear lord," he muttered, pulling off his glasses and wiping them vigorously.

AN again: Sunnydale again. Finally!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, yadda, yadda, yadda, special super-de-duper thanks to the bulbs in my chandelier **Anne, Annje, Anne-Marie, Chelle86, Chrios, Cousin Mary, Cow as White as Milk, Darklight, DragonKatGal, Hinomi, Kandice, Light Spinner, Lolly6, MissKayl, nimacu, Nina, Rosie W, ruth 4 kai, ScruffyWes, ShawThang, Tiger Tiger 2, Turn Off the Tide, Village-Mystic, **and **Watcher Tale Neith.** You light up my life! (No, I don't own a chandelier. It'd be cool though. Except for dusting.)

Extra special thanks to **ScruffyWes** for pointing out some flaws. Gosh I love that! Well, I _appreciate_ that. :) Seriously, you rock! Also, thanks for the never-ending supply of Potter lore. (Did you notice the twinkle? That was just for you, baby!)

~Eris~


	18. Part 17

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: I know, I know, it's been, like, a week. I have plenty of excuses! But instead of boring you with them, I'll just write the next chapter, k?

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 17

"Let me get this straight," said Giles from his perch on the ottoman. "You're a witch who was taken from your family as an infant because a prophecy indicates you'll be playing a pivotal role in the battle between light and dark?"

Buffy paused.

"Wow, Giles. I wish that I'd thought of that summary in the first place. It would have saved us a long explanation."

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Giles' living room. Also present were the trio, uncomfortably clustered on the couch, the Scooby gang plus Faith scattered on various pieces of furniture, and Draco and Snape leaning against a wall near the front door, competing with each other for most moody expression.

"Of course," continued Buffy thoughtfully, "I wouldn't have used the word 'pivotal.'"

Giles frowned at her.

"This is no laughing matter, Buffy," he said sternly. "As your Watcher, you're supposed to tell me everything, not… not—"

"Not lie to him. Again," filled in Xander.

Buffy blinked in surprise.

"Again? When did I lie?"

"Well, when you were gone over the summer, you let us think that you were in LA. That's a lie," supplied Willow.

"Yeah, but that's the same lie," said Buffy. "I lied about the summer. That's the only lie."

"Oh, right."

"What about the time that you lied to Giles to go to that college party with me?" asked Cordelia.

Buffy sighed.

"Fine, I lied. I'm a horrible person."

At the back of the room Draco made a scoffing noise.

"This was a wonderful idea, Elizabeth. Your friends are a useful lot, I must say. We've been here an hour and all they've managed to establish is blame."

Xander frowned at him.

"Okay, who is this again? And who is Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth is me, sort of. And that's Draco, my brother."

Had anyone been drinking at the time, there would have been various spit takes across the room.

"Brother?"

"What?"

Buffy frowned.

"I said I spent the summer with my other family. Did you not think there would be, like, members of it around?"

"This is a bit much for us to take," said Giles with some asperity. "You'll have to forgive us if we can't—can't… digest it all at once."

"I know. I really am sorry," said Buffy, rubbing a hand over her face tiredly. "I wanted to tell you guys, all of you guys, everything. I almost did so many times. But the wizarding world is like my Slayer status."

She looked at the blank faces in the room and sighed.

"It's a need to know basis," she supplied.

"Actually," cut in Hermione from her position on the couch, "she's violating several ministry ordinances simply by telling you."

"Uh huh," said Xander, looking at the pretty girl with interest. "And what was your name again?"

"Oh, sorry," said Buffy. "This is Hermione, Ron and Harry. They're the Scoobies of Hogwarts."

The Sunnydale gang nodded sagely while the trio simply looked more confused.

"Back there," continued Buffy, "is Professor Snape, resident Snyder of Hogwarts and current unwilling chaperone."

Snape scowled as the room collectively turned to stare at him. He glared at Willow, who "eeped" and hid behind Xander. Turning his meanest expression on Faith, he was shocked to find her grinning and licking her lips in a suggestive manner.

"Ew. Down, Faith," exclaimed Buffy. 

"That's Faith," she continued her introductions. "There's Xander, Willow, Giles, Oz and Cordelia."

Buffy wondered how in the world they had managed to fit so many people into Giles' very small living room. 

"Anyway," she said, refocusing on the task at hand. "Now that we're all friendly friends, and that we've established that yes, Buffy likes to lie, can we please get to this prophecy thing? Because if it's another one foretelling my death, I'd like to hear it in advance, so I can prepare the appropriate swears." 

Both Draco and Harry started in surprise.

"You had a prophecy foretelling your death?" asked Harry eagerly. "How did you thwart it?"

Buffy grinned.

"Let me reintroduce you to Faith, Slay-gal extrordinaire."

"Two Slayers?" said Hermione softly, "but that means…"

"Prophecies are tricky things," said Buffy, watching Harry. "They don't lie, exactly, but they're open to interpretation. If I hadn't gone to defeat the Master, I wouldn't have died, and he wouldn't have been released. But if he hadn't been released, I couldn't have stopped him later."

"If you're dead, how are you not… dead?" asked Ron.

"A little luck and a lot of help from my friends," said Buffy, smiling at Xander. "But enough about that. Giles, we need to get started on—"

She was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. Jumping to her feet, Buffy pulled out a stake and scanned the room.

"Where's Draco?" she demanded.

"He's the one who stormed off," said Snape, his tone clearly suggesting that Buffy's powers of deduction were somewhere between that of an antelope and a snail.

"And you didn't stop him?" she demanded. "Yeah, you're a super chaperone."

She headed towards the door.

"Giles," she called over her shoulder. "The prophecy is about me and Draco, twins, and uh, the forces of darkness putting out the sun forever."

She sped out the door and down the walkway, quickly catching up with Draco.

"What's your deal?" she demanded.

He ignored her, and began walking more quickly. Buffy kept up with him easily.

"Come on, Coco. Spill."

He tried going faster, but a cramp in his side forced him to stop and face his sister.

"You didn't tell me anything!" he yelled.

Buffy took a step back.

"Draco, I—"

"You live on the _Hellmouth_! You _died_! All those stupid little stories you'd write to me about. 'Oh, today I defeated a hoard of zombies. I broke a nail, but am otherwise fine.' You made it seem so… easy. Like it was just a game."

"I didn't want you to worry," said Buffy softly. "If I made it sound… I didn't mean… damn it!"

She sat down on the curb.

"I don't know how I made it sound easy. It isn't. It—it… ugh."

She wiped her face angrily as Draco sat down beside her.

"I don't tell you about it, because I don't like to think about it. When I think about it, _really_ think about what I've done, who I've lost… this happens," she tearfully indicated her face.

"I cry. Then I get all red and sniffy, and it's an unattractive deal all around."

"I'm sorry," said Draco, idly playing with some pebbles in the street. "I thought… I don't know what I thought."

Buffy eyed him suspiciously.

"You had thoughts. Let's hear them," she commanded.

He shrugged.

"It just seemed like you were still trying to keep your lives separate. And I know it's not fair to be mad about it, when we both agreed to keep quiet about the other, but… they had no idea who I was."

Draco turned and faced Buffy.

"And I had no idea who _you_ were. These people have a whole history with you that you never shared with me. Here, you're Buffy Summers."

Buffy nodded.

"That's true. And in England, I'm Eliz—uh, Buffy Malfoy."

"Ha!" crowed Draco triumphantly. "You said 'Elizabeth.'"

"Shut up," said Buffy, getting to her feet. "Come on."

"'Come on' where?" asked Draco, allowing her to help him up.

"My house."

Draco froze.

"What?"

Buffy grabbed his hand.

"You're meeting my mom. We're going to tell her everything."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Buffy laughed shakily.

"I'm not sure of anything," she said. "But I think it's passed time to deal with this."

Draco nodded, and followed her down the street, towards Revello Drive.

AN again: I swear to god, I'm never going to get this prophecy out. Why is Draco such a baby? Anyway, I guess next time we'll be dealing with Joyce. And I'll really try to get it out quicker, I swear!

Thanks to everyone and their moms. I want to give individual thanks, but I also want to get this posted before the site shuts down tonight, so watch out next chapter for double thankfulness.

Also, if you like Harry Potter (and I'm assuming you do) then go check out **ScruffyWes**'s new story "Harry Potter and the Ultimate Betrayal." 

http:// www. ?storyid=1797289 

It's delectable!

~Eris~ 


	19. Part 18

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: I have excuses! Mostly I blame Spencer of the evil shots. But basically, I have things like term papers and presentations and bars to do. And this will continue all through April. So take what you can get, and quit your bitching! Um, I mean, thanks for all the support. On with the fic!

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 18

Draco felt like an asshole. His two hours of sulking and five-minute rant had led them to this moment, with Buffy standing anxiously in front of her front door, staring at him. Waiting for him to respond.

"I don't know," he said.

_Git_, thought Draco to himself. _She asked you what to do if Joyce freaks out, which she obviously will, and you say you don't know._

Judging by his sister's expression, she was having similar thoughts. They were both having second thoughts.

"Maybe… maybe this is the wrong time," suggested Buffy. "Maybe we should do this _after_ we take care of the prophecy business. And, and… Narcissa should be here."

Draco thought. He thought that he had been unfair earlier, accusing Buffy of trying to keep her two worlds separate. Even though it was true, it was hardly something to yell at her about. He wondered how many muggle-born students had to lead double lives, then wondered how he, Draco Malfoy, had gotten to the point where the lives of muggle-borns concerned him at all. 

"I think you're right," said Draco, coming to a decision. "We have enough problems to deal with in my world without adding drama from yours."

Buffy looked uncertainly at him and Draco pondered his choice of words. There was his world, and there was her world. It felt awful to think it, and sounded worse when spoken, but it was an invariable fact. It was not insurmountable, however, thought Draco. Buffy had acclimatized herself to the wizarding world well, eagerly even. Draco had less desire to fit into her world, but he wanted his sister in his life and if he had to take her mother, her Watcher, and her muggle friends too, well, he could manage it.

Of course, it wouldn't do any good to try to fit into Buffy's life if he went ahead and cocked it all up for her first, so Draco grabbed Buffy's wrist and began pulling her away from the door.

"You're right," he said, much more convincingly than before. "This can definitely wait."

Buffy smiled gratefully.

"It's not like it'll never happen," she said. "But to walk in there completely unprepared is just the worst plan ever."

As they began walking down the path, the door opened and Joyce stepped out.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't hear the bell ring at all. What can I do for you—Buffy!" exclaimed Joyce in surprise as Buffy turned around. "What are you doing back? I thought the… Slay-camp? The thing you had to go to this weekend wasn't over until tomorrow."

Buffy winced. Another lie, but she could hardly have told her mother she was going to Great Britain for the weekend to visit her family. Although she was going to have to tell her just that in a few minutes.

"And who is this with you?" asked Joyce, eyeing Draco in confusion and a bit suspiciously. Her experiences with strangers brought home by her daughter were not all positive.

"Uh, hey, Mom. This, this is Draco. And uh… can we go inside? There's something… we need to talk."

Joyce paled considerably, but stepped back to let the teens inside. 

"Can I get you something to drink, Draco?" she inquired, leading them into the kitchen.

"No, thank you," replied Draco politely.

"Oh, you're British!" Joyce grasped gratefully at this straw. "Are you related to Mr. Giles?"

"It's just 'Giles,' Mom. And no, he's not. Actually, funny story about who Draco is actually related to."

Buffy tried to laugh, but coughed instead.

"Think I could get that drink?" she asked, then sat down at the table while Joyce poured her a glass of juice.

Finally they were sitting around the table, but Buffy chose this moment to become very interested in her drink.

Her mother sighed.

"Buffy, are you in trouble again?"

Buffy considered the impending prophecy for a minute, but decided that it didn't count.

"No," she replied, setting her glass down.

"Well, what is this about?"

"Um…"

"Buffy Anne Summers, I can't take any more of this," said Joyce sharply.

"Sorry. Okay, remember a while back, when I asked you if I was adopted?"

Joyce nodded.

"And it was a ridiculous question," she replied. "You were born at the Lincoln Medical Center. I was in labor for eight hours, and when you finally came out I was so tired and happy I cried."

"Well, I actually don't think I was," said Buffy gently.

"Buffy, you were born at the Lincoln Medical Center," insisted Joyce. "I was in labor for eight hours, and when you finally came out I was so tired and happy I cried."

Buffy and Draco exchanged looks.

"Mom, over the summer I met some people. Draco and his mother. And it turns out that he's actually my brother."

"You don't have a brother," stated Joyce flatly. "And you're my daughter. You were born at the Lincoln Medical Center. I was—" 

"Mom."

"…in labor for eight hours, and when—" 

"Mom, please…"

"…you finally came out I was so tired and happy I cried."

Draco frowned. The idea of Joyce being under some sort of spell was looking more and more convincing. 

"Mrs. Summers," said Draco, interrupting Buffy's renewed attempt to try to explain the situation to her mother. "will you do me a favor?"

She looked at him uncertainly.

"What?"

"Say this: 'Buffy was born…'" he thought quickly, "'on a pirate ship.'"

Both women turned to stare at him.

"But she wasn't," said Joyce. "She was born at the Lincoln Medical Center. I was in labor for eight hours, and when she finally came out I was so tired and happy I cried."

"Right," said Draco. "I know it's not true, but say it anyway. Please."

"Buffy was born… on…" 

Joyce frowned.

"… at the Lincoln… no! On a…"

"Pirate ship," supplied Buffy, giving Draco a quick glare.

"Buffy was born at… on… a p—"

Joyce stared wide-eyed at Buffy and Draco.

"Why can't I say it?"

"It's a spell. Someone put a spell on you… to make you think you were my birth mother."

"But…" Joyce shook her head, eyes filling with tears, "but you're _mine_."

She put her head in her hands.

"You're mine," she whispered brokenly.

Buffy watched her mother cry. She jumped slightly when Draco gently touched her arm. She stared at him blankly, unaware that she was crying also.

Draco looked at her sympathetically, but nodded towards Joyce.

"You can break down later," he said softly. "Help _her_ now."

Buffy got up and made her way around the table.

"I'm yours," she said fiercely, pulling Joyce into a hug. 

The two women clung to each other, 

"It doesn't matter why, or who did this," Buffy whispered. "It doesn't matter how I ended up being your daughter. I _am_ your daughter. I love you, Mom. I love you."

Joyce sobbed harder and squeezed Buffy so hard that without Slayer strength her ribs would have been in danger.

"I love you," she said. "No one will take you away from me."

Buffy pulled back.

"No one is trying to. It's not about that, Mom."

Joyce sat up, wiping her face.

"What is it about?"

Buffy retold the story she had attempted earlier, about Narcissa and Draco finding her in LA and giving her a place to stay.

"I'm glad she took such good care of you," said Joyce unevenly, pushing a lock of hair behind Buffy's ear.

Buffy nodded.

"She said the same about you."

The phone rang, and Buffy stood up.

"I'll get it," she said, walking into the other room and leaving Draco and Joyce alone together.

The two watched each other carefully.

"Buffy talked about you," he blurted out, suddenly. "Over the summer. She missed you very much."

Joyce smiled.

"I missed her, too."

There was an awkward pause.

"So, you're her brother. Older or younger?"

"Younger," supplied Draco. "But only by minutes."

"Twins? My goodness."

"Yep," agreed Buffy, coming back into the room. "You can no longer blame my selfish behavior on 'only child syndrome.'"

"I suppose not."

Joyce shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm still very… shell-shocked. How old are you anyway? And when is your birthday?"

Buffy looked at her mother in confusion.

"I'm seventeen, Mom."

"Sixteen," corrected Draco with a smirk.

"What? I think I know my… oh. Right."

She frowned.

"Sixteen? That's awful! That—that makes certain events even more inappropriate than ever. Certain events that will never be mentioned in front of my brother or mother again."

Draco shuddered.

"I should hope not."

Joyce changed the subject in a more tactful manner.

"Who was calling, Buffy?"

"Oh, it was Giles," she said. "Draco and I have to get back to his place. There's been progress on the prophecy."

"Prophecy? What prophecy?"

"Oh, it's no big. Just more of the same Slayer stuff I keep from you on a regular basis."

"Buffy," said Joyce warningly.

Buffy grinned.

"I'll be fine, Mom. And I'll let you know everything about it as soon as I know, okay?"

Joyce nodded unhappily and followed the teens to the door. As Buffy was leaving, Joyce suddenly grabbed Draco and pulled him back.

"I know that I'm not your mother, but you _are_ her brother. You keep her safe. Understand?"

Draco nodded.

"I will," he said seriously. "No matter what."

Joyce searched his face, looking for the truth. She saw Buffy's cheekbones instead.

"Okay," she said, and let him go.

She stood in the doorway and watched him jog slightly to catch up with Buffy. They walked together down the path. Draco said something to Buffy that made her both laugh and punch him in the arm. Joyce knew that no matter what, Draco would keep her daughter safe.

She cried.

AN again: Mush! And next time, there will be the prophecy! I swear it shall be done.

Okay, on to the thanking. I'm doing this in a new way because I'm too lazy to continue keeping a list of everyone who has reviewed three times or more, so if you review, I thank. The end.

For part 16, tons and tons of thanks to **ElizabethV, Ceebe, Ambrosine, Athene Saile, Ezmerelda, lark277, Jessica, Chelle86, Light Spinner, Hestia, SPASH Panther, Village-Mystic, Sarah, Whisper2AScream, Lolly6, ScruffyWes, WW, Dracowar, lilbratz1, MissKayl, ruth 4 kai, Anne-Marie, Tiger Tiger 2, Reese, Dueling Destiny, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, Kandice, Watcher Tale Neith, Silver Sparklze, Turn off the Tide, Rosie W, ShawThang, Molly, Hinomi, jezowen, caribear, Nicola Afyan, Anne, Dreamer 22, **and **Chrios.**

For part 17, a bunch o' banana thanks to **ElizabethV, Whisper2AScream, Rosie W, Turn Off the Tide, ChocolateKitten, eth, Anne-Marie, nimacu, muggle, A Watcher, chad, mandie, Ezmerelda, LaRoseMinuit, Wather Tale Neith, Hestia, DuelingDestiny, Kandice, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, jezowen, Cow as White as Milk, caribear, Arieanna, Chelle86, Light Spinner, smileforangelbuffyhatecordy, ladyofthedragons1, jen, **and **ShawThang.**

Okay, I am never skipping thanks on a chapter again. Good lord!

And thanks as always to **ScruffyWes**, for allowing me to sleep on Sunday (which I greatly, greatly needed).

~Eris~ 


	20. Part 19

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. Harry Potter and company to JK Rowling. I'm just flattering through poor, poor imitation. All fun, no profit.

AN: It's here! The prophecy is hidden somewhere in this chapter. And I despise it… 

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 19

It was like walking into an insane asylum. The Malfoy twins paused at the threshold of Giles' living room, identical expressions of shock on their faces. Apparently, in the time it had taken for Buffy and Draco to make up, their respective friends and acquaintances had found plenty to disagree about themselves.

Willow and Hermione were in a hot debate over whose magic was better and who was smarter. Willow, much to Buffy's surprise, was right up in the Hogwarts' witch's face while Oz stood back offering his usual silent support. As she turned away, Buffy heard Hermione ask angrily whether Willow had ever made a polyjuice potion.

At the opposite end Giles and Snape were arguing about the prophecy. It seemed that Giles was waiting for Buffy's return before revealing whatever he had found in the tattered tome clutched to his chest, much to Snape's displeasure. The potion master was insisting on being told this instant, and seemed moments away from pulling out his wand and forcing the issue. 

Complicating matters was Harry, who kept screeching that he should be told the contents of the prophecy, a fact that was greatly irritating Faith, who had become fond of her sister-Slayer these passed few months. She told him in detail, not to mention using the wide and colorful vocabulary that was intrinsically Faith, exactly what she thought of his right to know anything.

"Bloody hell," said Draco softly, not wanting to disturb what he considered a good show.

Buffy nodded in agreement.

"It's like a bad joke," she said. "Two groups of heroes walked into a bar…"

"Except there's no bar in sight," pointed out Draco.

"You know what I mean."

"And I sincerely doubt you have a punch line," he continued.

Buffy turned to him, possibly to demonstrate exactly what sort of a "punch line" she had, when she was distracted by goings-on in the kitchen.

"Holy crap!" she exclaimed.

Draco followed her line of sight, brows going up in surprise when he realized what they were seeing.

Ron and Xander, arguably the most hotheaded and quick-to-judge of their respective gangs, were seated at the kitchen table having a civilized conversation. Cordelia sat at the other end and alternated between doing something to her nails and glaring at her boyfriend.

Buffy moved closer.

"…so if I get someone to eat it, they'll turn into a canary."

"Right."

"Excellent!"

_Well, a somewhat civilized conversation_, thought Buffy. She shook her head in bemusement and returned to the problem at hand.

"Guys," she said loudly, clapping her hands together once.

The realization that she was back flowed slowly through the room. First, Giles stepped back from Snape, letting go of his robes while the professor quickly thrust his wand back into whatever secret pocket he kept it in. Then Faith released Harry from the headlock she'd had him in, and Xander, Ron and Cordelia came back into the room. 

Unfortunately, Willow and Hermione had yet to realize that the skirmish was on hold, and Willow's voice carried clearly across the room.

"Yeah, well, have you ever restored a vampire's soul?"

Buffy flinched visibly, and Willow, suddenly realizing what she had said, and the volume it had been said at, first paled, then flushed nearly as red as her hair.

"Buffy…"

Buffy shook her head and forced herself to sound normal.

"Doesn't matter," she said. "We're dealing with present issues right now, not past ones. And speaking of issues…"

She trailed off, looking around the room.

There was general shifting and staring at feet.

"They started it," muttered Faith.

"Super," said Buffy. "I don't care. What I want to know is, can you guys be in the same room while we get this prophecy taken take of?"

There was silence and more shifting.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' Now… about this prophecy," she said, turning to Giles.

"Are you sure you don't want to hear it alone first?" he asked.

"What difference would it make? Everyone in this room feels like they have a right to hear it, whether they do or not. Might as well head off the bitch-fest before it begins."

Giles frowned at the bitterness in his Slayer's voice.

"Buffy…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"You know, you're not the only one involved in this," interjected Draco pointedly. "Maybe I should have a say in it."

"Coco, how many prophecies have been written about you, not counting this one?"

"None," said Draco, rolling his eyes.

"Giles, how many have been written about me?"

"Well, um… there is, of course, the one about the Master, not to mention one I found just recently about how you would defeat the Judge. I didn't find it until after the battle, but… so there may be more that I haven't discovered yet, not to mention that past victories could also have been—"

"The answer I'm looking for is 'some,' Giles," cut in Buffy. "As in more than none. And as reigning prophecy expert, not to mention the _older_ sister, I decide what to do with this."

Draco glared at her.

"Now stop being so contrary," she said.

"Stop being so bitchy," retorted Draco.

Buffy closed her eyes and counted to five. It didn't help, and she decided that it was because you're supposed to count to ten. Well, the luxury of counting to ten was something that she couldn't afford. Maybe people who didn't have prophecies written about them and worlds to save had time for a full ten count, but Buffy wasn't one of them.

Buffy felt tired all of a sudden, and it wasn't just because she had gotten up at four in the morning in order to make the time switch to Scotland, and had spent a full day there only to return to California and end up with six more hours of daytime to get through.

"I'm sorry," said Buffy, not opening her eyes, not even really knowing who she was apologizing to. Her friends and Watcher for lying, her brother for not taking his feelings into account, her mother for finally telling the horrible truth.

Herself, for the life she had to lead.

"It's been," she said, finally opening her eyes, "a really, really long day."

Draco nodded.

"Let's get this over with," said Draco, not wanting to push his sister any further.

The two teens and the rest of the room turned to Giles expectantly. Flustered by the sudden attention, he fumbled with the tome, nearly dropping it before he finally opened it to the right page. He cleared his throat.

_In the year of the war between evil and right_

The destroyer of darkness and darkness will fight

Twinned strength and skill

Will join in the fight

Separated for darkness

Brought together for light

If separated by dark, light cannot prevail

If joined with the day, the sun cannot fail

The war between night and day

Is determined by placement of gray

In the meeting of dusk and dawn

The eternal war shall be won

For a few minutes after Giles had finished reading, the room was silent.

"That's it?" said Buffy finally. "That's stupid. It could be about any one or anything."

Giles blinked.

"Well," he said, pulling off his glasses, "it seems to relate to a… a supernatural war. And… twins of strength and skill, well… I can only assume—"

"I'd really rather not base this on assumptions," interrupted Buffy angrily. "I mean, if you want to arbitrarily assign things, how about: I'm strength, Draco is skill, Xander is the east and Willow is the sun?"

Hermione coughed lightly.

"There is also Harry to consider," she said.

The room shifted its attention to her.

"The destroyer of darkness… I believe the sun must be Harry. Not, er… Willow."

"It's called sarcasm, Brain-girl. Look it up."

Draco grabbed Buffy's arm and dragged her to the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"Well, my arm's not feeling too great," she said, wrenching it out of his grip.

"Buffy…"

She sighed.

"You know that whole 'oh, another prophecy, la-di-da' act I have going on?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, that's what it is. An act. Draco, the last time I was told there was a prophecy about me, I died. Trust me when I say that's hard to get over."

Buffy crossed her arms and looked out the kitchen window, blinking furiously.

Draco circled around until he faced her.

"It's not wrong to be scared," he said. "I know I am. But there's a roomful of people over there that want to help you. And by doing so they'll have to help me, too."

Buffy gave him a small smile.

"Besides," continued Draco, "the prophecy doesn't say anything about dying. It sounds more like a weather report, really."

Buffy snorted in amusement, wiping her eyes.

"Think about it… we're going to defeat the darkness by bringing happy, sunshiny days to the wizarding world. I'm not saying it is going to be easy… after all, we're talking about the British Isles here. Land of never-ending rain."

"Okay, enough jokes, Coco. I feel better," said Buffy. "And now, for what I'm sure is the hundredth time… let's go take care of this prophecy."

They walked back into the living room, and everyone immediately tried to look as though they hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Okay, guys. Let's start translating."

AN again: So there you have it. You know, there's a reason I don't write poetry.

Thanks to **ba4ever, LilBratz1, Watcher Tale Neith, ElizabethV, Village-Mystic, Whisper2AScream, Hestia, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, Light Spinner, Freak like me, Annje, Kandice, Anne, BuffyandDracoLover, DEDE, NicolaAfyon, Anne-Marie, Chelle86, nimacu, Alec Star, ChocolateKitten, Trixi Hellfire, caribear, Ezmerelda, june5634, Dreamer 22, ShawThang, jezowen, Darklight, Hinomi, Rosie W, ScruffyWes, **and **Turn off the Tide.** Reviews are delicious, like very cheap Easter chocolate bought at Walmart on a very bad candy shopping spree. Oh, the sugar… I mean, reviews…

And now for the super fun Q&A session that comes up every now and then.

Q: Angel? 

A: No. Sorry, but no. Little Liam is quite dead, and won't be coming back. 

Q: Dawn?

A: God, no! Wrong season, not to mention all the added Glory baggage she brings with her.

Q: The importance of being Harry?

A: Yep, he's an important guy, and will, of course, be involved in whatever fight against the V-man I might have. Still, he's not the focus of this story so he won't get chapters devoted to him or any of the stream-of-consciousness insights that I love to hate to write. 

Q: Title?

A: The bicycle means nothing. I just needed a title so I could post the first chapter, so I stuck the first thing I could think of into a family tree.

And my personal fave…

Q: Who is sexier, Alan Rickman's Snape or David Bowie's Jareth?

A: Jareth. As much as I love greasy hair and freakishly large and misshapen noses, I love teased hair and shiny purple eye shadow more. Not to mention David Bowie :)

~Eris~


	21. Part 20

AN: Do you really want to wait another minute? Chapter first, apologies after.

****

A Bicycle in the Family Tree

Part 20

Click.

Click.

Click.

Clickclick.

"What do you think, Buffy?"

Clickclick.

"Buffy?"

Buffy jumped and dropped the pen.

"Sorry, what?" she said, picking it up.

Giles gave her an exasperated look.

"Do you think you're dawn or dusk?"

She blinked.

"The prophecy, Buffy… remember?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I remember. I don't know… dusk?" she guessed.

Her Watcher sighed.

"It's not an exam, Buffy."

"Then why the sudden demand for an answer? I don't know any more about it than the rest of you."

"I just thought…"

"I'll bet the Buffster is dawn," interrupted Xander. "What, with all the shiny yellow hair."

Cordelia glared at Xander. So did Buffy.

"My hair is so not 'yellow,'" she said.

The rest of the room looked at her.

"Well, it's not," she pouted. "It's blonde."

"Doesn't matter," said Faith. "D's hair is even more blond."

The group turned its attention to Draco.

"Actually, it's more white."

"Would that make it dusk?"

"Why is dusk white? That doesn't make sense."

"Like you're coming up with better ideas. Honestly, hair color?"

Click.

Click.

Clickcli—

"Give me that," said Draco, snatching the pen from Buffy's hands.

"Sorry," she said. "This is just…"

"Boring, I know," agreed Draco. "That's why I wanted the pen. It's my go."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

She looked back at the room.

"Okay guys, enough about my hair. Which is _not_ dyed, by the way."

She ignored the disbelieving stares.

"We need to figure out this thing, and we need it done yesterday."

"Yesterday? Isn't that kind of impossible?"

Buffy glared at Ron.

"Oh, you're right, I must've meant tomorrow. Ass."

She looked back at the rest of the room.

"Okay, we can't seem to work together, so let's split up. Scoobies in here, wizards in the kitchen."

Draco frowned.

"I don't want to work with them."

"Neither do I," muttered Snape.

"I'm a witch, not a wizard," pointed out Hermione.

"And technically—"

Giles slammed a large book onto the coffee table.

"Who has an elsewhere to be?" he said, a Ripper-like look in his eyes.

"Band practice," said Oz, standing.

"Shopping," said Cordelia.

"Slaying," said Faith. "Eventually."

"Donuts," put in Xander. "Want to come, Ron?"

There was general shifting as people left. Giles looked at the reduced, and somewhat cowed group, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Right," he said. "First of all, what is the year of the war?"

He looked to Harry.

"It's sort of an on-going thing, I think. I've had a battle with Voldemort the past five years."

"A battle, really, or just a fight?" asked Buffy.

Harry frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a battle would be bigger, and an all out thing. Like… a war has, you know, lots of people on both sides. Just a fight can be… one on one."

"I've fought. People died. It sucked," said Harry flatly.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Maybe," said Hermione finally, "it hasn't begun yet. If anything, we could consider that both sides are currently _preparing_ for a war. Gathering troops, if you will. Maybe the war begins when we start it."

Giles nodded.

"That may well be true," he said.

As he and Hermione continued to talk, with occasional ideas thrown in by Willow, Buffy casually made her way towards Harry. He was sitting with his arms crossed and an angry look on his face.

"What's up?" she asked softly.

"Nothing."

"It's the most pout-inducing nothing I've ever seen."

"Well, it's really none of your business, is it?" he hissed.

Buffy sighed.

"I know this is hard, this… sharing of responsibilities and trusting strangers, but you really need to get over some of your issues."

"And you really need to mind your own fucking business," yelled Harry.

Once again a silence fell over the room as everyone turned to stare at Buffy and Harry. Buffy stood stiffly by the couch, hands clenched. She was torn between turning Harry into the Boy-who-lived-to-regret-it and simply breaking down and crying. She opted for a graceful exit, making her way to the front door instead.

Once outside, Buffy sat on the curb and waited. Someone was bound to come out and make sure she was okay, so she might as well be ready for yet another heart-to-heart.

Buffy sighed. There had been so many emotional revelations recently, she was itching for a good fight. Then she remembered that the Death Eater attack had occurred only hours ago. It felt more like months.

"It's been a long day," said Buffy out loud, hearing someone walk up behind her.

"I'll second that," said Harry.

Buffy looked up.

"You," she said unenthusiastically, turning back to face the street.

"Yeah. Listen, I'm sorry about snapping at you just now," he said.

"Uh huh."

"I really am."

"Okay."

"I know you were only trying to help, and I certainly didn't have the right."

"Uh huh."

Harry paused, staring at her unresponsive face.

"I know you probably don't even care," he continued, "but I really am sorry."

"Uh huh," said Buffy. Then she sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"It's okay," she said, turning to face him. "I do care, and I'm glad you apologized."

Harry grinned in relief.

"Good. I mean, I'm really so—"

"I know. It's cool," said Buffy. "We're cool."

She gave him a genuine smile.

"I do know what it's like, you know," she said. "We don't have to bond right now, but if you ever need to talk…"

Harry nodded.

"Thanks."

Buffy stood and brushed off the seat of her pants.

"Coming back in?" she asked.

"Not just yet."

He waited for the inevitable argument about how he shouldn't be out and alone, putting himself and the entire wizarding world at risk, but Buffy simply nodded and walked back into the house.

Harry sat and watched the sun as it began to set. He heard footsteps behind him.

"Let's make this short and sweet, Potter," drawled Draco.

Harry immediately stood and reached for his wand.

"Oh, relax, Scarhead," said Draco. "I'm not after your virtue."

"What do you want, Ferret Boy?"

Draco frowned.

"Stay away from my sister."

Harry blinked.

"You think… Buffy? And me? We've only just met. And I'm not doing very well with first impressions, either."

He tried to walk passed Draco.

"You have nothing to worry about on that score, Malfoy," continued Harry with only the smallest amount of bitterness.

"Obviously, if you try to date my sister, I'll kill you. But I'd really rather you stay away from her altogether. After all, the people around you always seem to end up hurt, or worse."

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Draco regretted them.

"Look, Potter," he began, "I didn't—"

He was interrupted by a fist to the face.

"Bloody hell, Potter," said Draco, wiggling his jaw. "You hit like a girl. Worse, even."

Harry squared off in front of him and put up his fists.

"I mean, even Hermione hit me harder than that," continued Draco, ignoring Harry's attempt at a pugilist stance.

Harry stared at him, dropping his hands to his sides.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Draco looked at him and shrugged.

"All of a sudden you're no longer a Death Eater, you've got a sister, and you're helping to save the world while at the same time remaining a prat, warning me off your sister and saying… things like _that_ to me."

Draco sighed.

"I didn't mean it."

Harry looked at him in disbelief.

"Well, I did, but I shouldn't have said it. Sorry."

Stunned, Harry checked to make sure his jaw hadn't dropped.

"What about the rest of it?" said Harry finally.

"That's really none of your fucking business, is it?" replied Draco in a cheerful voice, turning and walking back up the path. As he reached the door he paused and half turned.

"I was never a Death Eater," he said before opening the door and walking back inside.

Harry stood and stared at the door for a moment before turning to look up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set.

"A very, very long day," he murmured and went back into the house.

AN again: So, uh… come here often? I was really torn about a lot of things recently, like finishing this fic or pretending it never existed, taking an apologetic stance or being defensive, ordering beef or chicken…

… so I decided to try to finish the fic, apologize for the wait (sorry) and be defensive (I had a lot going on and I owe you _nothing_). Incidentally, I had pasta.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, even those who simply whined or swore. Every single nag helped me come to my final decisions. So: **dragonbrat, Robin R. Smith, Guardian of The Balance, Chosentwo4381, pencil gal, DRACOATW, Raclswt, ShotbyanEmu, charmedfanatic3000, TallieCat, penny, A Watcher, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, welshcariad, Fianna, Watcher Tale Neith, becks89, ElizabethV, Whisper2AScream, Lanhar, Chelle86, Anne-Marie, Renna, wolfg07, Holli, lilbratz1, Village-Mystic, Lexinator, Ezmerelda, Light Spinner, Chocolate Kitten, Kandice, Annje, CelticHeiressFiona, Birdgirl, Dueling Destiny, caribear, NicolaAfyon, ScruffyWes, Rosie W, jezowen, **and** ShawThang**. You guys are fan-freaking-tastic.

Eris****


	22. Part 21

Disclaimer: I remember how to do this, I think. Still not mine, still no profit. Less flattery, maybe, but still a poor imitation.

AN: Yes, yes, I know! How weird is this?

A Bicycle in the Family Tree (Part 21, I think)

Buffy sighed as she looked upon the splendiferous glory of Hogwarts once more. Skipping regular school to hide at a castle would be more fun, she mused, if she couldn't feel the weight of two months of assignments on her back. Literally.

"Little help here?" she huffed, shifting her bag on her back.

"Hey, you're the slayer," replied Draco with a smirk, and— dare she say— a skip in his step as he bounded up the massive front stairway. "You've got the strength of ten men. I think you can handle one little rucksack."

"Always the gentleman," muttered Buffy, not bothering to look around for anyone else's help. Snape has bolted for parts unknown the second the portkey had deposited them at the school, and she assumed that the Gryffindor trio had also headed for the hills during her and Draco's arrival argument. This argument was not to be confused with the one had when departing, although they both had a focus on safety, communication with outside sources, and whether it was fair to make Buffy study both Muggle and magical things. They both also ended with Buffy socking Draco in the arm, a possible reason for his lack of helpfulness at the present moment.

Still, Buffy's memory was as short as her bag was heavy, and she stopped abruptly and dropped her load on the floor.

"I've got it," said Harry, appearing suddenly at her elbow.

"I thought you went in already."

"Yeah, well, you're taking so long I've had time to drop off my trunks, have supper, and visit with Aragog in the forest for a bit before coming back here." He stooped down and grabbed the handle of her bag.

"Funny," said Buffy. "Really. Need a hand with that?"

Harry tried picking up the bag with no success.

"No," he wheezed unconvincingly as he tugged at it again. "I've got it."

He dragged the bag, which while only a nuisance to a super-strong girl was a real challenge to most people, less than half a foot before stopping again.

"At times like this it's hard to believe he's the darling of the wizarding world," muttered Draco audibly.

At that, Harry gave his head a little half shake, pulled out his wand, and soon Buffy's bag was floating about a foot off the ground.

"My hero!" grinned Buffy.

"Shall we?" replied Harry, reddening slightly as he offered her the arm not currently involved in magic.

"Get a room," hissed Draco before storming through the front doors of Hogwarts.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"And up bunch the panties once again."

Harry tried to hold back an unmanly giggle. This girl had such a way with words.

"What's up with that, anyway?" she continued. "I though you guys had, like, a moment earlier. You know, after you punched him."

The bag traveling in front of them wavered slightly.

"Absolutely not!" sputtered Harry. "There was no… moment-having between your brother and me. We were completely moment-less."

Buffy couldn't help smiling. He was just so… normal, really. When he wasn't being a self-centered jerk, that is. But that sweet awkwardness was so typically teenagery that she wanted to hug him. He wasn't any different than Xander or even Draco.

She stopped them at the foot of the stairs and turned to face him.

"You're a good guy, Harry Potter," she said.

And Harry Potter, awkward teenager that he was, tried to kiss her.

*~*~*~*~

There must have been a better way to deal with the situation, mused Buffy later, but at the time she had panicked. To be fair, all she did was take a step backwards, but rejection is rejection, and it didn't help that more than one student had apparently seen it happen. After all, the entrance to Hogwarts is about as private as a Sunnydale mausoleum as well as just rife with windows. It didn't take long for word to get out that Harry Potter had unsuccessfully put the moves on the new girl, who was either Draco's girlfriend, sister, or illegitimate daughter, depending on who the story came from.

So Harry was currently ignoring Buffy completely, a situation that should have been mildly irritating at most, but was somehow making her head and heart hurt.

"I realize that it's out of character for me to even bring this up," began Draco the next day as he sprawled in front of the fireplace in the private room Buffy had been given, "and please don't consider it encouragement, but why exactly aren't you interested in the Boy Wonder? I mean, isn't the drippy troubled orphan back story and his impending blaze-of-glory heroics exactly the sort of thing you girls lap up with a spoon?"

Buffy laughed. She had been curled up on the sofa and idly skimming through a book called Magic for Morons, but she set it down now and leaned back, flipping her hair with a simper.

"Why, yes. _Us girls_ mainline that sort of romantic crap like it's a drug! I can't believe you haven't caught me doodling hearts and flowers and writing 'Buffy Potter' in the margins of my Lisa Frank unicorn notebook yet. 'Cause I do that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but it sounds a lot like avoiding the question."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why do you suddenly care who I choose not to smooch?"

Despite his supine position, Draco managed a one-armed shrug.

"I'm not sure, actually. I did warn him away from you earlier, for all the good _that_ did, but—"

"You what?" Hair flipping came to an abrupt end as Buffy swung her legs around and sat up in her seat. "Who made you master and commander of my social life? You had no right!"

"That's an 'agree to disagree' situation at best," countered Draco with a smirk. "So now you're interested in him?"

"No! Well, maybe. No."

Buffy sighed and rubbed her temples, contemplating whether or not she was up for _this_ particular conversation after everything else that had gone on already. She would (probably) never tell him this, but sometimes Draco could come across as kind of a girl, what with the prying into every little piece of her life.

"Okay, so, you remember how I was at the beginning of the summer? Depressed with a side of occasional crying?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, I kind of led you and Narcissa to believe that it was because of slaying, and my mom kicking me out, and that was totally, totally true. Totally. But it wasn't, um… the full truth, I guess. I had also recently gone through a bad break up..."

Buffy winced and trailed off. Seriously, a break up? Ridiculous and such a stretch of the truth. Draco was looking at her with a puzzled frown, but he didn't seem mad or judgmental or on the cusp of one of his signature hissy fits, so he'd probably let it go if she asked him to. But, Buffy wondered, if she couldn't share this with Draco, how would she ever get over it?

"Shit, here we go," she said suddenly and somewhat manically. "Okay, he died. Well, I killed him. I mean, he went evil first! But not right away. Okay, this is coming out entirely backwards."

Buffy took a deep breath, paused, and burst into tears. It was official: she would never get over it.

Then Draco was there, tentatively wrapping his arms around her. She hid her face in his chest, feeling the bump of the glass vial beneath his shirt, and tried to stop crying. Unsuccessfully. Draco, settling next to her on the sofa, tightened his hold on her and patiently waited out the emotional outburst.

Eventually, as the crying tapered off, they ended up sitting semi comfortably, Draco with one arm still around her as she leaned into him. Buffy began to speak, starting with meeting Angel in an alleyway and ending with his death at the point of her sword. She rushed through some parts, lingered on others, and left as much detail out as possible, of course, especially in regards to those infamous "certain events" but those lines in between were not difficult for Draco to read. Finally done, Buffy glanced at Draco's face, hoping to read his expression. It was unhelpfully noncommittal.

"You know," he said after a moment, "a conversation with you is like walking through a minefield. It always ends in explosions. Tears. Missing limbs."

"Sorry," she said, beginning to smile a little at his obvious attempt to lighten up the situation.

"No, it's okay. Keeps me on my toes. Although—I know that the fact that we've only known each other for a few months has led to such limitless opportunities for exposition that some stories are bound to fall through the cracks, but don't you think this is something you could have brought up before now?"

Shaking her head a little at his absurdness, Buffy fought the urge to give him another hug.

"It's not that interesting of story, really—unless you're a fan of teenage angst and abandonment issues."

"Who isn't?"

"Yeah," she agreed, and then looked down at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. "But I kind of hate that story."

Draco gave her one last squeeze and stood up.

"So do I."

*~*~*~*~

With a sense of cathartic relief, Buffy decided that she should clear the air with Harry, also. They had to work together after all, and silent treatment wasn't really conducive to successful group prophesy analysis. Plus, she kind of liked the guy.

She found him with Hermione and Ron in the library, all three as deep in ancient tomes as they were in discussion. It gave Buffy sudden insight on how strange she and the Scoobies must have looked to their classmates on the rare occasion one of that breed found their way into the Sunnydale High library.

"Harry," she said softly, still managing to startle all three. "Can I talk to you?"

The boy in question frowned.

"I suppose," he said, making no move to get up.

Buffy sighed and pointed.

"Great! How's about over there? Alone. In the sure to be empty "History of the Common Garden Gnome" section."

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated incredulously. "Because I want to discuss Gnomic history and Travelocity commercials with you. Or maybe because privacy would be of the good. What do you think?" The _you jackass_ went unsaid but not unheard, and Harry acquiesced, walking with Buffy into the stacks.

"Remember the bus ride to Sunnydale?" she began without preamble.

"Vaguely—like it happened yesterday."

"Funny. Really. Do you have a neutral setting? Something in between martyr and jackass, maybe?"

"This is how you apologize to people?"

Buffy cocked her head.

"Not at all. I'm not here to apologize to you. I'm sorry if you thought I was."

They looked at each other for a moment as her statement sank in, and then began to laugh.

"I can't believe I said that," Buffy managed between giggles.

Harry shook his head. "You—that's amazing you know? What you and your friends do. I didn't get it at first, how you could crack jokes and laugh about everything but… it does help, doesn't it?"

"Survival tactic," agreed Buffy, "and a finely honed skill."

Harry was leaning, relaxed now against the shelf, and Buffy almost didn't want to bring up the whole junior high style kissing debacle again. But she was a slayer of evil, so she took a deep breath—and spoke.

"What I came to talk to you about—it's not an apology, it's more like an excuse. Or explanation, I guess. What you said on the bus, about watching someone you care about die and knowing it was your fault? I did that. I had to kill my boyfriend to save the world and I'm not exactly over it. I have so much emotional baggage I can only carry it one piece at a time, and right now I'm sporting the fanny pack of 'I'll never date again.' Which I'm sure I'll take off someday, 'cause some outfits don't gain much from the fanny pack accessory. All outfits, actually. Um, anyway. Yeah. So that was the Buffy version of 'It's not you, it's me,' except in this case it's not a kiss-off. It's really, really me."

Harry stared at her for a moment.

"I actually think I understood that. Sort of." He furrowed his brow. "I won't press you for details, but maybe someday…"

"When I'm ready to talk, you'll be, well, third or fourth to know, I guess," admits Buffy.

Harry laughed at her candor, then, blushing a little but determined: "And when you're ready to date?"

"Oh, first or second, definitely."

AN 2: Yeah. Not only did the above just happen, I actually have a bit of plot sketched for the next couple of chapters. I will never be the pony to bet on, however, and I want you to take that to heart, and not hold your breath, no eggs, no basket, etcetera, etcetera. You were warned.

For some reason I've never been able to admit that this story would never be completed, despite the six year hiatus. Although I didn't write myself into a corner, exactly, I didn't like where I had ended up. In the beginning of this fic I skipped from one scene I wanted to write to another, concerned only with setting up the chapter for witty repartee and not at all with plot or continuity. I ended up (right after the Death Eater's hit Hogsmeade, if you want to get specific) stuck feeling like I needed to write every single second of the day, and I didn't know how to get out of it. So I stopped. And then I moved, and graduated (BA, baby!), and moved, and graduated again (MA, baby!) and became a cube monkey, and moved again (own a house, baby!), and became quasi-management. But I still got reviews and people still signed up for alerts (you optimists, you!) and I always knew there were other suckers out there not willing to quit on this story, either.

This morning, if you can believe in results that fast, I had ten reviews for A Bicycle in the Family Tree in my Yahoo box. All from the same reviewer (**QueenC**, and honey: I LOVE cookies), and scattered through the story instead of just a plea for completion dropped in right at the end. And I was magically inspired, drove to work, got a fresh spiral from the supply cabinet, and wasted my afternoon. I can't explain the why's and how's, but here we are! It's a bit of a piece of crap—the tone changes, it jumps around, and I don't write any better at 28 than I did at 22 (internal communications, mostly pertaining to safety, do not a crack writer make), but a piece of shit ending (pending) is probably better than no ending at all. Correct me if I'm wrong. Please.


	23. Part 22

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still no profit.

AN: I think we can all agree that this is considerably less than 6 years. Mega thanks to those who reviewed—it really makes my day.

**A Bicycle in the Family Tree**

Part 22

"I am very displeased"

Lucius crouched low before his lord and master, a small contingency of masked Death Eaters at his back, and tried desperately to clear his mind of such thoughts as "I'm going to die," and "The crazy bastard will surely separate my genitals from the rest of my body this time." Voldemort was a skilled Legilimens, after all, and though he rarely felt the need to use his powers on Lucius, his most loyal of subjects, there was no reason to chance giving him ideas. Instead, Lucius stared at the tip of the Dark Lord's shoe where it poked out from under a rather voluminous set of robes. Black, of course. Black robes, black shoes; black is such a flattering color, even if you're a bald, serpentine madman. Oh, but this was not such a good direction for his thoughts to go, either.

"Lucius."

Voldemort's voice was not loud or sharp, but his voice slithered over the "c" and the "s" and Lucius hated his name when his master spoke in that quiet hiss that never failed to send chills down his spine. "I seem to have lost your attention."

And then Lucius did not worry about shoes or snakes or much but screaming for a few minutes. And the few after that were dedicated to retching and re-establishing control of his bladder.

"Have I your attention now, Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord," the quivering heap on the floor forced out through vocal cords that full felt of sharp, pointy things. "Apologies, my Lord."

"You have failed me, Lucius."

"My Lord—"

"Failed!" he hissed and Lucius lost another moment wondering just how Voldemort had managed to produce that horrifying sssst sound in a word with no sibilant consonants, and—_I'm going mad_, he thought, wrenching his mind back to the creature who controlled his life and his ability to ever again stand without shaking.

"You were blessed with the honor of fathering the children of prophesy, the ones who merely need be separated in order to bring about the downfall of that repulsive boy and securing my reign," said Voldemort. "Yet you were not able to keep them apart! You could not even keep the son you raised loyal to our cause. You were unable to capture a simple, muggle-raised girl. Twice. And now the two of them are working together against us—the very thing you were supposed to prevent from happening. Oh, Lucius. You worthless, useless creature," Voldemort sighed regretfully. "I will kill you now, I think."

"Wait, my Lord! Please, no!" Lucius scrambled briefly to his feet before falling to his hands and knees, a position both respectfully prostrate and entirely necessary, as his body continued to tremble from the earlier cursing and his legs refused to support his weight.

"Another chance, I beg you! I will bring you the girl. My Lord," Lucius pleaded, "There is more… something more that you must know."

Voldemort absently twirled his wand through his fingers as he looked down at Lucius. While his gaze was never anything less than terrifying, Lucius hoped that he wasn't imagining the faint glimmer of interest in those demonic red eyes. He continued: "The girl—she was raised muggle, yes. But she is," Lucius paused, not for dramatic effect so much as to allow his vocal cords to stop seizing. "Slayer…" he wheezed.

Voldemort paused in his baton routine. "A slayer? That is interesting news indeed… and how, precisely, will you get me this slayer _now_ when you have failed so abjectly in your previous attempts?"

Lucius hesitated.

"If I may interrupt, my Lord," one of the Death Eaters approached the pair. "I may have a plan."

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the newcomer, trying to place the voice. Male, definitely, and with just a hint of a foreign accent. Not that it mattered; Lucius had no allies but himself.

"And just what is your plan?" inquired Voldemort.

"My son only rarely mentions Draco, but I have suspected for a while that they are friends. I imagine that he has access to the boy, and now to his sister, too. He will be our way in."

Voldemort nodded. "And Lucius? Does your plan require him in any way?"

The man paused.

"Nothing comes to mind," he admitted carelessly and as Lucius braced himself for the killing curse he found, oddly enough, that he was once again staring at those damned shoes. _Black is not actually a color,_ his mind supplied helpfully. _Green, on the other hand…_

Voldemort was still speaking but comprehension was impossible at this point; the words were slipping away from Lucius' mind, registering only along his spine in that familiar cold tingle of horror. Ah, and now he has noticed, barely, that the wand has been aimed.

"Well," said the Dark Lord with a little shrug, "perhaps you'll think of something later."

The familiar glow of the Cruciatus curse washed over him, and Lucius screamed as gratefully as possible.

~*~*~*~*

Buffy had only been in the castle for a little over a week, but it was starting to grow on her. The lessons learned from her previous visit (i.e., not to wander off alone, to avoid Peeves at all costs, and to look before you leap) were some of the reasons that she mostly stayed in her private room or hung out with the trio and Draco in the library, but it also made sense to stay somewhat sequestered. Although it was no secret to the students of Hogwart's that a Malfoy-related visitor was hanging about the place, there was no reason not to at least try to keep a low profile. Plus, going to classes she could not understand and would not learn from was pointless, and a distraction for the other students. The professors had been talking about rearranging schedules and private tutoring, but to Buffy the prophesy of impending doom was more of a concern than her education, magical or otherwise. Still, despite the fact that more areas of Hogwart's were forbidden to her than to everyone else, what she was able to see so far was fantastic. Talking mirrors, flying books, and the freaking biggest bathtub in the world!

Also, the company wasn't so bad. After "making up" with Harry, a formal (signed) truce was declared by all parties, and included rules like: "No one shall call anyone else a git," "No one shall cast harmful or embarrassing spells on anyone else," and "No one shall disparage members of anyone else's family—with the exception of Lucius, who is a git." It was working so far, and Buffy had discovered that Harry could be sweet, Hermione could be funny, and Ron was crazy loyal and sort of smart on the rare occasions that he focused. Also, that Draco, paranoid that he would say the wrong thing to Hermione, could be quiet. Oh, how she teased him about that!

Right now Buffy was by herself in her room because the others were still in class, but she was about to head down to the library. Draco preferred that she wait for him to swing by and escort her, but the book she had been reading (_Decoding Nonsensical Prophesies_) had referenced another one (_Say Anything: How to Turn Your Poetry into Prophecy_) that she thought might be useful. Not super useful, but if she could figure out how prophesies were created in general, maybe she could reverse engineer this one. Plus, it apparently had an entire chapter devoted to the weather.

Making it to the library with no major issues, Buffy quickly found the book and set herself up at the usual table. Before long she was scribbling incomprehensible notes— _darkness = night falling = bad guys … attacking at night? No, both DE attacks happened during the day. Is mtg of dusk & dawn __day__ or __night__???!!! _— and wondering, not for the first time, why Dumbledore had left them so entirely to their own devices. Giles had never drug up a propeshy and then left the Scoobies to decipher it alone. In fact, he was working on interpreting the prophecy in Sunnydale, and sent her periodic updates.

With her mind wrapped up in the intricate details of wacky prophesies and negligent authority figures, it was no surprise that when Ron unceremoniously dropped a stack of books right next to her, Buffy's concentration broke and she shrieked. Just a bit.

"Sorry," he said, obviously not at all sorry and she kind of wished that she could call him a git. Stupid rules.

"How was Potions?" she replied faux sweetly instead, laughing as he flopped into the chair next to her with a long, drawn out sigh.

"Snape was being horrible, as usual."

Hermione frowned slightly at his typical bad attitude towards the professor, but also sat down, pulling Buffy's notes towards her.

"Find anything new today?" she asked.

Buffy sighed and shook her head.

"Pretty much no. These divination books are terrible. I've read Harlequin's with more substance."

Hermione nodded in sympathy. "I agree completely, and… wait, what's this in the margin? Is that a—"

Buffy quickly snatched the paper back.

"Stay out of my margins, Granger," she joked playfully, fighting the urge to blush. So maybe she had doodled a couple of hearts on there. It wasn't a crime! And those initials, well… they could belong to anybody.

"Obvious subject change here, but where are Draco and Harry?" she asked.

"Draco had to help Blaise to the infirmary—there was a slight incident involving the rather volatile combination of snail slime, beetle eyes, and flamepowder. Blaise put in too many eyes, apparently. And Harry is… right behind you."

Harry was, indeed, right behind her, and Buffy quickly slid her arm over her notes. Harry didn't notice, but Hermione did, giving her a knowing grin. Buffy tried to remember if there was a rule in the truce about throwing things. (There was, actually: "No one shall throw items or objects at anyone else nor shall they pick up and throw any other person.")

"Here," said Harry, fortunately interrupting the possible breakage of rules. "I brought you a snack."

They had discovered early in the week that Buffy was better at researching when she had a stomach full of sugar and jelly-filled foodstuffs, but this was the first time Harry had gone out of his way to bring her something.

"How sweet," chirped Hermione.

"Yes," said Buffy, eying the muffin Harry had set before her with a mixed look of hunger and embarrassment. "Thanks, Harry."

Time passed, Buffy ate her muffin o' love, and the prophesy remained elusive.

"It's either complicated beyond belief, or a total piece of shite," offered Ron, and Hermione, rather than get after him for bad language, simply nodded her head.

"Yes," she said. "I was going to attempt to deconstruct the line about being 'separated for darkness,' but what's the point? It's clearly only filler; it's not even a part of the main rhyme scheme."

"That's right, give up. You can't win, anyway."

The four teens looked up, startled, as Draco approached the table with a sneer.

"Draco, you're here!" exclaimed Hermione with a shy smile. "How is Blaise doing?"

"He'll live," replied Draco. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact and fiddled absently with the gold chain around his neck. He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "You lot, on the other hand? I wouldn't count on it."

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron in confusion. Buffy simply sat back and stared at her brother.

"Oh, didn't you get the owl? I'm switching sides. The so called "good" is, as always, doomed to failure, and I rather enjoy winning. Staying alive and well is a bit of a hobby of mine."

"You traitor," yelled Harry, pushing back from the table. "How could you?"

Draco shrugged elegantly. "As I said: I'm practical. A survivor."

He scanned the table, stopping when he got to Buffy.

"You should think about joining me, sister."

She said nothing, but Harry was reaching for his wand and Draco decided his welcome had been worn out. He tugged on the chain around his neck, pulling out a snake pendant that he grasped firmly with one hand.

"Ciao," he said the portkey took him away.

AN 2: Hmmm… I didn't mean to spend so much time with He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named, actually, but suddenly Lucius became a somewhat interesting fellow and the scene took on a life of its own. I went back and forth on killing him off but sided with Voldemort in the end. I mean, what if I need him later in the plot, right?

Thanks again to all who reviewed! I forgot how freaking addictive fanfiction feedback was. Yes, that's a shameless plea. Story alerts are are well and good, but reviews are crack-tastic.

On a pointless personal note, whilst giving this the final go over I was also watching a movie on the Chiller channel that caused me to yell out: "Dude, there's only ever one key that looks like it should fit in the ignition."

Yes, I watch Chiller and yes, I yell at my TV. You should have heard me during Die Hard 4.


	24. Part 23

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still no profit.

AN: Well, I don't know… there_ is_ some exposition mixed in with all the yelling.

**A Bicycle in the Family Tree**

Part 23

Madame Pince had been cutting the group a lot of slack recently. Although they occasionally became loud, she had it on good authority (Dumbledore's, of course), that they were working on something important. The outburst of yelling and swears that followed Draco's defection, however, could not be be tolerated and after being kicked out of the library Buffy and the Hogwart's trio found themselves out by the lake where they could holler to their heart's content.

Not that Buffy had been involved in the yelling or swearing. Instead, she watched in disbelief and growing anger as Harry and Ron alternated between ranting and a horrible sort of vindictive triumph: of _course_ Draco had betrayed them, what _else_ could you expect from a Malfoy, they knew _all along_ he was a Death Eater, you can't trust a _Slytherin_, and I _told_ you so, I told _you_ so, _I told you so_. Hermione was standing quietly by the edge of the water with a solemn, "someone just kicked a puppy" look on her face that made Buffy want to smack it off of her.

Buffy knew this type of betrayal. She had lived it once already in an amazing technicolor of blood and death and swords. Been there, done that, and thanks for the memories. In an absent sort of way, Buffy supposed that she should be more sympathetic to their shock but this was her brother they were maligning and it was so obvious that beyond the personal sense of betrayal, they were (Harry and Ron, at least) concerned only with what this meant for them, the prophesy, and not for Draco himself.

She, on the other hand, was very concerned with Draco; not because he had betrayed her, but because she knew that he hadn't. Which begged the question of where he was and what had happened to him.

_Queen D., _she thought numbly, pressing the palm of her hand over the necklace hidden under her shirt. _What did they do to you? _and _Please be okay._

A sudden pulse of heat shot through the vial and Buffy gasped audibly.

This noise, pretty much the first she had made since the whole mess began, brought the trio's attention back to her.

"Buffy," said Hermione, still looking so solemn. "How are you doing?"

"I am so far from fine it's not even funny," replied Buffy sharply. "I can't believe you jackasses!"

A surprisingly sympathetic Ron tried to talk her down.

"Buffy, I know it's hard to imagine, but I know how you feel. When my brother, Percy, turned his back on the family, well, I wanted to lash out, too. But you have to know, you're taking this out on the wrong people."

"The wrong people?" said Buffy. "I don't think so. You're all supposed to be the good guys, but you're awful! You want to talk about loyalty and betrayal? You're so narrow-minded and prejudiced. And unforgiving! We should be trying to figure out what happened and how to save Draco, but you're so busy being petty and vindictive that you can't even see the truth."

Hermione hesitated before beginning her attempt to reason with the irate slayer.

"I understand that you're upset, but Buffy… I don't think Draco wants us to save him," she offered gently. Bad move.

"And you!" Buffy was all too eager to turn her anger on the bushy-haired witch. "You're supposed to be so smart, but what the hell? Have you never heard of a little thing called magic? Imperius curses? Polyjuice? 'Cause I seem to remember them featuring pretty prominently in some of the adventures you've had."

The comprehension was beginning to dawn in the collective eyes of the trio, but Buffy wasn't quite done yet.

"Let me break this down for you, and I'll try to use small, British words. That was not Draco. He didn't move like Draco, he didn't act like Draco. Hell, he didn't even smell like Draco! And he was wearing that ugly snake necklace instead of the Geminus Cruor vial I gave him, but I can feel that connection, it hasn't been broken…" Buffy trailed off, her gaze turning distant.

"Buffy, what is it?" asked a thoroughly subdued Harry.

"Separated for darkness," she murmured, and then more loudly, "I have to go!"

"Wait," said Harry as the slayer turned to leave. "Go where?"

"To join the dark side, of course," she responded with an eye roll. "I'm going to save Draco. You gits."

On that parting note Buffy spun around and began to hurry back towards to castle. She didn't make it more than a few steps before the trio caught up with her.

"Wait, Buffy," said Harry, "maybe you're right about Draco. I really, truly hope that you are. But either way, you're going to need our help."

"Well thank god for that," said the slayer before admitting: "I have no idea what to do next."

*~*~*~*~*

Draco didn't wake up so much a move slowly from a distant awareness of pain to a very present throbbing in his skull. Opening his eyes cautiously, he was first relived by the dimness of the room—and then extreme anxiety set in as he took in the damp, mildewed walls of a dungeon. Not just any walls of any dungeon, mind you, but the vaguely familiar, spent-a-childhood-pretending-not-to-be-afraid-to-go-down-there, Malfoy Manor dungeon.

"Ow," he mumbled, pressing his hand against his temple in an effort to sooth the agonizing pain in his head, a pain that seemed to worsen as he struggled to remember how, exactly, he had gone from the relative safety of Hogwart's castle to the depths of his ancestral home.

"Alright there?" The disembodied voice sounded more concerned than threatening, but Draco immediately jumped up from the narrow pallet he had been "resting" on. He almost immediately regretted this venture into sudden movement as his head swam warningly and little black spots danced before his eyes.

"Bloody hell," he winced, finding himself back on the bed with his eyes closed and wondering who had invited the entire clog dancing troupe of North Lancashire into his head. When he felt more confident in his ability to move and talk without yarking, he re-opened his eyes and finally managed to focus on the shadowy figure who was sitting on the pallet across from him. It was Blaise Zabini.

Draco frowned. "What are you—" he cut himself off as the lost memories finally came back. Memories of Blaise somehow exploding the potion in class and making an oddly big deal about a few drops of the mixture landing on his hand. Draco escorting the whinging baby to the infirmary. Blaise, on the way, suddenly stopping, grabbing Draco by the back of the head, and slamming him into the wall.

_Well, that explains the headache and temporary memory loss, I suppose,_ thought Draco dully, and the surge of anger that swelled through him effectively, or at least temporarily, cleared his head of the dizziness and pain.

"You bastard!" he yelled and lunged across the cell to where Blaise sat calmly, grabbing him by the shoulders. "How could you? I thought we—"

The words got stuck in his throat as Draco realized two things. The first was that although Draco was free to move about the room and grab and shake people, Blaise was actually attached to his cot by a chain on one leg. The second thing was that the excessive bruising on Blaise's face indicated that he'd also had an up close and personal meeting with a wall, or other similarly unyielding surface.

"You though we were friends?" Blaise suggested somewhat bitterly. "Is that what you were going to say?"

Draco hesitated and released his hold on the other boy.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Hmm, well that makes two of us. Actually, I suppose I have a better understanding of the situation now than I did two weeks ago when the bloke I thought I had become friends with showed up with a new sister, disappeared for a day, and then returned, only to ignore me entirely."

Draco tried to avoid making eye contact but there wasn't much else to look at in the cell. He knew he had spent most of the last week holed up with either just Buffy or both her and the trio, working on solving the damned prophesy. In all honesty, though, he had also purposely been avoiding Blaise the rest of the time because he hadn't wanted to lie to him, and telling him the truth had never been an option. As Buffy might say, it was a "need to know" basis, and not everyone needed to know. The evasive maneuvering had seemed like a logical solution at the time. The plan, however, had not taken Blaise's feelings into account, nor how it would look like Draco had abandoned his friend in order to spend time with a group he had previously disparaged at great length.

"Yes," continued Blaise, "We were such good friends you didn't even notice that I haven't been at Hogwarts for the past three days."

"That's not possible," replied Draco, but his tone was uncertain. The bruising on Blaise's face and his disheveled condition certainly seemed to suggest the boy had been dungeon-bound for several days.

"You're probably right," offered Blaise facetiously. "It's not at all possible that my Death Eater father would lure me home with a fake owl from my mother, knock me out, lock me in my room, and assume my identity through use of some polyjuice potion and a lock of my hair."

He absently rubbed at his scalp. "Bastard didn't bother with scissors, of course."

"But how did—"

"How did I end up on your family's illustrious dungeon? Daddy dearest returned home in quite a rage after the first day. It seems he thought _I_ would have had unlimited access to you and your sister. After discovered just how "close" our friendship actually was, he had to come back for more polyjuice and hair. And to express his displeasure. At that point he moved me here, presumably to minimize the possibility of my escaping and warning you, or perhaps just as further punishment."

Blaise shrugged lightly. "For all his skills in magic, he's always been a fan of the more physical types of punishment. Very hands on, is my dad, as you yourself have discovered."

"Apparently so," replied Draco tiredly, once again feeling every throb of his head injury. The guilt he felt at how he had treated Blaise really complemented it nicely. He had told himself that shutting Blaise out was the only solution, and then put the whole situation out of his head.

"I'm sorry," he said to his friend, knowing that sorry wasn't really good enough. To his surprise, Blaise gave him a warm smile.

"No worries," said the Slytherin. "No use crying over spilled potion, and all that. I mean, since my father seems to be involved in this plot to maim and/or imprison you, it's only fair to call it even."

"We're not responsible for our fathers' actions," protested Draco, thinking of all the horrible things Lucius had done.

Blaise nodded.

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but you have to admit that we pay for them, one way or another."

Looking around the dungeon, Draco had to admit that Blaise was right.

AN2: Did you notice all the crazy mood swings? Mad, sad, angry, confused… It's like the characters have the collective attention span of a couch. Anyway, sorry about the delay. I'm not really happy with this chapter, but it's been two thirds written for several weeks, and I needed to either just finish the thing and put it out here, or stop writing for another few years.


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